Splinters
by Philyra
Summary: In the aftermath of the Double Eclipse, Azkadellia continues to struggle with guilt and the specter of the witch when she is offered an unlikely chance at redemption. Az/Jeb, background Cain/DG. Now COMPLETE.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **I do not own _Tin Man_. That privilege belongs to SyFy. Everything else is simply a product of my fevered mind. :)

Suggested Listening: "The Shape of Things to Come" from the Tudors soundtrack (Season 2)

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Nights were the worst. There was no Glitch babbling away in the background about parsecs or hegemony or whatever else was on his mind, none of Raw's soothing presence, or her parents' gentle dialogue. Even Cain's silence was overshadowed by the sheer strength of his persona. Worst of all, there was no DG, whose sheer lightness of being burned away her own encroaching darkness. Her Light, it seemed, was no longer enough to keep the shadows at bay.

Nights were the worst because they meant she was alone in the fight against her demons. Oh, she knew that there were doors that would always remain open to her no matter the time, but she refused to be a child, for all that her childhood had been cut drastically short. She would not curl up in her parents' bed, or DG's for that matter. She still had pride, though pride was too small of a bandage to cover her wounds. It was hardly even a cure.

Pride could not keep her from enduring night after night of waking nightmares, horrible dreams where she was not sure if she was really asleep or awake. Fractured images, half-remembered actions, and screams. Always the screams. Some were hers; the agonized wails of a girl trapped inside a body that was no longer hers to control. Most were the result of what that body wrought. She thought she would go mad hearing the screams, and only then she would wonder if she wasn't already mad.

Madness was avoiding mirrors as much as possible or spending hours in front of them. She would examine every line, every freckle, every feature, searching to reassure herself that the person that gazed back at her was Azkadellia. Other times she trained her gaze away from any reflective surfaces, terrified that she would find the witch staring right back at her, as she had for so many years. During the day, she was assured of being solitary within her skin. At night, she couldn't be sure that she was entirely alone.

The witch's voice had always been strongest at night. She didn't need to sleep. Instead, she spent her time solidifying her hold over her host, her voice dripping venom and lies until Azkadellia could no longer distinguish them from the truth. Worse, she was no longer certain that every horror the witch wrought was entirely of her doing. Perhaps she'd been tainted. The witch was a void, a black hole at the center of her soul that inexorably dragged everything into it, even her Light.

Every night, the witch would shift through her memories, playing them over and over in her mind's eye until they were seared there. Her mother, who had always doted on DG. Her father, who clearly loved her best, but was always away on diplomatic missions and other duties of the crown. And DG, her spoiled but beloved younger sister, the one who dragged her into that horrible cave, setting the witch's reign in motion by allowing her to take the body of her sister.

Azkadellia sat up in bed, panting. She would not, could not blame DG. For a long time, she had. But she was a child, she couldn't have known. And she'd saved her in the end. There was nothing to blame her for. DG was the reason why she was free.

_You cannot escape me, little one_. She knew that voice, high, grating, and terrifying in her head. _You can never be free of me. I am always here._

She curled into herself. A large, gilt-framed mirror hung right in front of her bed. She would not look into it.

_Look in the mirror_, the voice taunted. She shuddered, refusing. _Look_, it insisted. _Look at how I've shaped you. Everything you are, I've created. You're just like me._

She shook her head, which was buried between her knees, her arms crossed protectively over it. "I'm nothing like you," she said vehemently.

_Is that any way to thank me, Princess? _That voice was cruel and mocking. _Who taught you the full extent of your power?_

"It hurt people," she whispered.

_They were fools who could not accept change. And who was it that finally turned your mother's attention on you?_

Her head shot up, dark hair tossing wildly about her pale face. "She hated me! She hated me – _you_ – for killing DG! I have _nothing _to thank you for and every reason to damn you." Her lips twisted. "And you are damned."

I _killed DG? _Her laughter was merciless. _Don't blame me for acting on your wishes. Admit that you were jealous of her. Your mother favored her and forgot about you. You had every reason to want to kill her. After all, didn't she let me have you?_

"No. No." She clamped her hands over her ears. "I'm not listening."

_Look at me. Look at me. Look at me, for I am you._

"No!" With a roar of sheer terror and rage, Azkadellia vaulted over her bed, lunging at the mirror. Her fingers scrabbled desperately at the heavy frame before she sent the entire thing crashing to the ground, the shards tinkling as they hit the cold stone floor. For one horrifying moment, she saw the witch's face reflected in the tiny pieces of glass. With a terrified shriek, she fell to her hands and knees, desperate to break each and every shard further, even when her fingers went slippery with blood.

The bright scarlet hue calmed her somewhat. The witch had bled black.

She was only vaguely aware of her bedroom door slamming open. "Az!" DG cried, cornflower blue eyes wide with panic, her long curly hair a riot about her shoulders. Wyatt Cain was close on her heels, pistol at the ready. "Az, you're bleeding!"

Azkadellia turned wide, unseeing eyes towards the commotion. "I'm not her, I'm not her," she repeated over and over, blindly reaching for the next piece.

DG felt to her knees beside her sister, trying to pry the glass from her fingers, gritting her teeth as her own palm got sliced in the process. "Cain, please get Raw!" The former Tin Man nodded and left the room just as Ahamo and the Queen came running in.

"Az!" Ahamo grabbed his daughter's hands. "Az, it's all right." He gathered her into his arms, heedless to the blood. "It's all right. Daddy's here."

Queen Lavender knelt beside her husband and eldest daughter, stroking her hair and humming a lullaby as Azkadellia shuddered. DG took her sister's hand, their blood mingling as bright light glowed from where they joined.

Azkadellia barely registered when Raw came into the room and gently took her hands in his, healing them.

"Raw, please, what's wrong with her?" DG pleaded.

"Hear voices. Remember bad things." Raw looked at the older princess with sorrowful eyes. "Not whole." She shuddered violently. The Viewer put a hand on her forehead. "Sleep." Azkadellia slumped back into her father's arms.

"What did you do?" Ahamo asked.

"Give dreamless sleep. Important she not sleep alone for a while."

"She can stay with me," DG said firmly, her tone brooking no argument.

She sat vigil beside her sister the whole night, wracked with guilt. Az had been dreaming about the witch, she knew it. She had been a fool to think it was all behind them now. "Az, how long has this been going on?" she whispered. She took her hand once more. The light glowed brightly despite the bandages. Crystal tears dripped onto the bedcovers. "I'm sorry, Az. I'm so sorry."

Azkadellia did not stir, and slept on.


	2. Making Plans

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: "Inara's Suite" from the Firefly soundtrack

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Colonel Jeb Cain stared up at the palace in wonderment. Even after the rebuilt Royal Army took to restoring the Central City to its former glory, the once-grand city was still a bit of an eyesore. It was a symbol of an O.Z. that was trying to rise from the ashes like a mythical phoenix; only it was still stuck in the ashes. But the palace on the Northern Island, emerged from its icy prison, brought a bit of lightness and hope to his heart. The people of the O.Z. could move on, and they would.

The giant doors swung open, and out came his father. "Son!"

"Father." They shared an awkward hug. In the aftermath of the Double Eclipse there had been little time for bonding. Before they knew it, Wyatt Cain had been promoted to leader of the Gale Force, the personal security force of the royal family. His son had been granted the title of captain in the Royal Army and sent to Central City to oversee their reassembly. In the past year, he'd climbed through the ranks with his unfailing hard work and strong leadership skills. Now a colonel, it was only a matter of time, his superiors said, until he would be promoted to general.

This left father and son little time to regain the time that they had lost. Sure, there were holidays and breaks, but they were few and far between.

Jeb stood back, his lips twitching. "Nice uniform."

Cain grimaced. In a fit of nostalgia, Queen Lavender had redesigned the look of the Gale Force, using sketches of the uniforms during the time that Dorothy Gale came to the O.Z. Long leather coats were anathema, replaced by a green service uniform heavily decorated with gold. Cain, of course, thought they were gaudy, completely unserviceable, and screamed "Look at me! I'm a target!" He would rather die than admit that to his queen, though. "Yeah. Come in, the family's waiting for you."

The two walked through the halls of the palace, the clicking of their boots lost in the sounds of servants hurrying back and forth.

"How's reconstruction?"

"We're getting there. People in the city are beginning to trust us now, and we've been lucky in that we've managed to quell any uprisings." Jeb's voice was bitter, and Cain knew why. The unspoken _within the city _hung in the air.

"And that's why you're here."

"That's why I'm here." He eyed the man walking beside him. "You look tired. Is everything running smoothly here?"

Cain sighed. "Everything is fine. We just had a little incident last night."

A blond eyebrow arched upwards. "Incident? Don't tell me, it was the w-"

"Princess Azkadellia," he said pointedly. Inwardly, he could not blame his son and the countless others who still saw the elder princess as the source of their troubles. Not everyone could believe that a witch who should have, by all rights, been a legend had been behind all the evil that had been done. But no one could have been more skeptical of Azkadellia than he, and he'd often wondered in his first months of being named Commander of the Gale Force if he would have to protect the royal family from each other.

But she had surprised him. Though often silent and withdrawn, she lit up when surrounded by her family, and that couldn't be faked. She was intelligent and patient. It also helped that Glitch trusted her implicitly – he who had the most cause to despise her. Raw was her constant companion as well, though in light of last night's events it was clear that she'd been hiding things from him, too.

Jeb decided to keep his comments to himself. He couldn't afford to annoy his father now, not when he needed his support. "Very well."

The two stopped in front of another set of heavy doors. "Ready?" Cain asked.

"Ready."

The doors swung open and the two strode in. Jeb bowed deeply to Queen Lavender and the Prince Consort. "Your Majesties." He turned and bestowed a slightly shallower bow to DG and Azkadellia, his gaze focused on the floor. "Your Highnesses." And he straightened and grinned. "Ambassador Raw. Sir Ambrose."

Glitch, who had been given back his position as Advisor, grinned and waved lazily. "'Lo." One of his legs was draped over the arm of his chair. Raw rumbled contentedly.

"Colonel Cain, it is a pleasure to see you." Queen Lavender smiled kindly at him. "Please, sit. Your reports from Central City take a great deal of weight off our shoulders, so it is with the deepest gratitude that we accept your request for an audience."

"What can we do for you, young man?" Ahamo said. He rather liked the younger Cain. At one time, he'd wondered if he would be a match for DG. But he knew his daughter, and knew her heart lay elsewhere – though she was not aware of it, yet.

Jeb sat down and cleared his throat. He waved off a servant who offered a cup of tea. "It has been an honor serving your Majesty's interests in the Central City. We've made more progress there than we could have ever hoped, and the army is getting along well." He took a deep breath. "But there is still rebel activity from renegade Longcoats all over the O.Z. and the army as it is now is too ill-equipped to deal with them. Our infantry units move too slowly and we have no cavalry to speak of, and the Tin Men have yet to fully regroup."

Azkadellia went white at the mention of Longcoats. It was yet another strike against her. It stung, the way the younger Cain would not meet her eyes. She was still a monster in the eyes of so many. The witch had so much to answer for. Her nails dug into the bandages covering her palms. DG, who hovered next to her like a guard dog, noticed and took her hand. Raw, who sat on Az's other side, changed the timbre of his rumble to a soothing purr.

Ahamo nodded. "That is a serious problem. We have spies tracking their movements, but there is only so much they can do as individuals."

"What do you propose, Colonel Cain?" The queen asked.

"Your Majesty, I propose the formation of a special mounted task force, similar to a light cavalry. They would be extremely mobile and quick to deploy. They would be trained in tracking, intelligence, battle tactics, weapons, and hand-to-hand combat."

"In other words, the perfect people to hunt down rebels," Cain said, looking at his son intently.

Jeb nodded. "They would be useful for taking care of bandits as well."

"How would they be organized?" Glitch leaned forward, interested.

"Small companies of about ten to fifteen, nothing more, commanded by a commander and a second-in-command." He'd spent quite some time thinking and decided that his units were better off with no formal rank structure. There was enough of that in the Royal Army. "One or two companies would be good to start with, if they're settled at a central base. If more companies can be created, they can be based in different parts of the country and cover their own territory."

"What sort of people would you look for to recruit?" This question came from Ahamo.

"Sixteen years or older, healthy, able to read and write, with good reflexes and instincts. They have to be willing to learn and take orders, but still be self-sufficient and independent. Willing to serve. And…" He wondered how they would react. "Men and women would be accepted."

The silence was palpable and shocked. Except for DG. "Great!" she chirped. "What?" she asked when everyone turned to stare at her. "Women serve in the armed forces on the Other Side, it's dumb that they can't over here. Women are just as willing and able to serve their countries."

"My thoughts exactly," Jeb said, relieved that someone was on his side. "There were just as many women as men in the Resistance. Some women even led their own groups. Her Highness is right – women are willing and able to serve and protect, so they should be given the chance to do so."

"How much time is needed to train these companies?" the Queen asked.

"Three months minimum, Your Majesty. This is adjusting for those who might not know how to ride and have no combat training whatsoever."

"And who would command them?" Ahamo said, a smile threatening at the corner of his mouth. He already knew the answer.

Jeb ducked his head. "I would, Your Majesty."

Queen Lavender frowned. "I'm not sure how I feel about one of my most able officers being away from Central City."

"Your Majesty, with all due respect, Central City is not for me. I was trained in the woods, to be mobile and to think on my feet." His eyes were earnest. "I need to be out in the field because that is where my skills are most needed."

She sighed. "I have to discuss this with the Prince Consort and Ambrose, Colonel Cain."

Jeb stood and bowed, recognizing the dismissal. "Thank you, Your Majesty." He bowed to everyone else in the room before stepping out.

Cain followed him. "You've been thinking about this for a while, haven't you son?"

He ran a hand through his blond hair. "I have." He sighed and looked out the window. "I've been going crazy in Central, Father. I miss the woods and the open sky. I hate shuffling papers and being political. Frankly, I'm too young to be at that stage."

"I know." He put a hand on his shoulder. "I understand, I really do. It's a great plan."

Jeb turned to him. "You think so?"

"I do. And I'll tell the Queen." He winked at him before heading back into the room. Jeb's shoulders slumped in relief. He had his father's approval, and that was something.

Thirty minutes later the doors opened and it was Glitch who beckoned him in, grinning broadly.

"Colonel Cain, we have arrived at a decision." The queen sat straight in her chair, regarding him solemnly. "You are hereby relieved of your post in Central City and granted permission to begin recruitment for your task force. As the commander of this task force, the resources of the House of Gale are at your disposal – within reason, of course."

"Of course," he said, somewhat dazedly. His idea actually _worked_?

"You will be allotted use of the Pertha Hills and the Great Gillikin Forest as training grounds. Barracks and stables for trainees and their mounts will be built in the field north of the Northern Palace," she continued. "You are to report your progress to Commander Cain and to myself and the Prince Consort every week for the first year, and we will continue from there."

"The field north of the…every week?" It was almost too much to take in.

Ahamo hid his smile behind his hand. "We have much invested in this, young Mr. Cain, so we will be very interested in your progress."

"And it's easier to keep track of your progress if you're nearby," DG added.

"Ah…I don't know what to say."

"Thank you," Cain muttered from the side.

Jeb blinked, then bowed deeply. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I am honored that you are allowing me this chance."

The queen inclined her head. Jeb bowed again and began making his way out, already making lists of things to do in his head. He needed to see some old friends and…

"By the way, Colonel Cain, have you thought of what you would call this task force?" The queen called.

Jeb turned around and smiled. "I was thinking of calling them 'The Queen's Riders.'" He bowed again and left.

She turned pink while her husband and daughters laughed. "Oh my. How flattering."

Az remained in the small audience room long after her parents, Raw, and Glitch left to attend to other business. DG stayed at her sister's side, knowing better than to leave her alone so soon after the previous night's incident.

"Penny for your thoughts?" she said quietly.

"What does that phrase mean?" Az murmured in reply. "Is a thought really only worth a penny?" Her face crumbled before DG could respond. "Did you see the way he looked at me, DG? Or the way he _didn't_, like he couldn't bear the sight of me?" She buried her face in her hands. "_Damn _her."

"Well, I would like to think she's roasting in hell now, so we've got that covered." DG put a comforting arm around her sister, her voice deliberately cheerful. "Don't mind Jeb – or any of those other people."

"How can you say that, Deeg? They all love you and adore you. You saved the O.Z. after I tore it to pieces and would have plunged it into darkness-"

"No, you saved the O.Z. too, Az, don't you ever forget that. _Ever_." DG slid to the floor in front of Azkadellia's chair. "You saved the O.Z. by taking my hand. You chose the harder road, remember? It would have been so easy to just stay with the witch, but you didn't."

"Because you saved me too, DG." Az put a bandaged hand on her sister's cheek.

"No." The younger princess carefully took those bandaged hands in hers. "I showed you the way, I'll admit that. But it was you that took the final step, the most important step. You should remember that, Az. Remember it, believe it, and it won't matter what all those people think." Her wide eyes were bright blue and earnest. "They'll come around soon enough."

"How I wish I could believe you, Deeg." Azkadellia's voice was wistful.

DG made a promise to herself then and there. She would never allow Az to feel this way again, if she could help it. Something had to be done.

* * *

Jeb stared thoughtfully out the window. Over the northern causeway on the northern fields, his dream was coming to life. It was amazing how much could be accomplished in a month's time with royal backing. Less than a week after he'd been granted permission to go ahead with his pet project, he'd sat down with one of the royal architects to go over sketches for the stables and barracks for his trainees. The barracks consisted of two dormitories, one for men and one for women, a giant mess hall and kitchen, several small classrooms, training rooms, an armory, and storage rooms. The stables were huge and held their own tack, mud, and storage rooms. Both structures were close to being completed and supplies were pouring in. DG told him that it was "all part of the economic stimulus package," whatever that meant. He was just grateful that everything was coming together.

"Commander Cain?"

"Yes Gordy?" he asked absently.

The page that had been assigned as his personal assistant bowed. "Lieutenant Switzer has just arrived, sir. He's in the stables."

"Good. Let's go meet him, shall we?" He strode out, the page following quickly. Jem Switzer was one of Jeb's oldest friends. Jem had served under him in the Resistance movement and followed him to the Royal Army. When it came down to picking his second in command, there was no doubt that Jem was the best man for the job. His job over the past month was to track down some of the old Resistance fighters who were getting too twitchy with normal life and see if they were interested in joining up and helping teach. He was also beginning the recruitment process.

"Jem!" he called, quickening his stride. "Jem, you bastard, what took you so long?"

Jem Switzer, a burly man with a head and beard of black curls who was ten years Jeb's senior, laughed. "I'd like to see you ride a full circuit from Winkie Country and back here to the Uplands in a month with all the stops I'd made, laddie."

"And the word is?"

"Dunstan and his old crew are raring to go. They got some loose ends to tie up, but they should be here within the next two weeks. Tracked Micah and her cousins to Quadling Country and they should be up here around the same time. Bo, Sula, and Windy are in, too."

Jeb did a quick head count and nearly whooped with joy. Between all those people, the count came to thirteen. Thirteen was practically a company. What was more was that he'd known all those people in the Resistance and they were damned good. "What about recruitment?"

"We got a lot of interest in Central. Some bored farm boys and girls too, for that matter. The others promised to spread the word. I think we'll get a good turnout."

"As long as the trainees get here in the next five weeks," Jeb muttered. "What other business do we have pending, Gordy?" he asked the page, who'd been dutifully taking notes behind him.

"Horses," was the prompt reply. Jeb groaned. The only problem with his ragtag team was that they weren't horsemen. He'd learned to ride from his father, and the army had improved on his skills. Jem had only learned when he joined the army. He wasn't sure if they could train the others well enough before the trainees came – and then they'd have to deal with teaching _them_. There was also the matter of deciding what kind of horses they needed for the Riders, and Jeb had to admit that his knowledge of horseflesh wasn't as complete as it could be.

Horses were integral to the whole process. They were, after all, the Queen's _Riders_. He'd chosen horses over automobiles because Central City was the only place in the O.Z. capable of sustaining automobile traffic. There were only two paved highways that came out of Central City – one going north to the Uplands, and another going south to Quadling country. Other than that, the O.Z. was covered with dirt paths and cobbled roads. Horses were still the quickest and most efficient way to get around. Automobiles were also incredibly expensive, and their fuel even more so. Glitch was of the staunch opinion that the O.Z. did not have the resources to supply automobile fuel. But horses were readily available and relatively easy to keep.

DG came strolling into the stables. "Jeb! Jem! Have I stumbled onto a planning session?" she said with a grin.

Jeb, Jem, and Gordy all bowed. "Your Highness."

She put her hands on her hips and scowled. "How many times have I told you guys to call me DG? I get enough bowing and scraping in the palace, thank you very much. Do you know how long it took me to get the grooms to keep on doing their work instead of bow to me each time I go by? How the hell would they get their work done if they're constantly bowing?"

Her tirade went unnoticed by Jeb. "Princess, you can ride, right?"

She shrugged. "Marginally well."

"Well enough to teach?" he asked eagerly.

She snorted. "Not likely. I still can't figure out how to get Popsicle from trying to eat my shoes and just trot."

His shoulders slumped. "Ah."

"Why?"

"We need someone with a knowledge of horseflesh and riding to help us. It's the only thing we're really lacking right now, and I can't ask Father because he's busy enough."

DG tilted her head to the side, blue eyes considering. "You know who you should ask? Az."

Both Jeb and Jem blanched. "Princess Azkadellia?" Jeb said incredulously. He'd been living in the palace for the past month to facilitate planning for the Riders and he'd barely seen the other princess. Frankly, he'd been relieved – he didn't _want _to see her. Every time he saw her face he was reminded of things better left in the past. Most of all, he just didn't trust her.

"Yeah. No one knows horses like Az. When we were kids, she was always harassing the grooms. She wanted to know everything about horses – their history, physiology…if it's about a horse, she knows it. And she's an excellent rider, trainer, and breeder."

The two men exchanged uneasy glances. Could they really expect their trainees and volunteers to learn from the very woman whose henchmen they were hunting down? Yes, that would go over well. "I'm not sure if that would be appropriate, Princess," Jeb said carefully.

"Why not? She doesn't have to take an active role, but she can serve as a consultant."

"Trust the w-" Jem began.

Jeb slapped a hand over his mouth. "What he means, Highness, is that-"

Cornflower blue eyes turned to ice and both men paled. It was never wise to displease royalty, even more so when they were females of the House of Gale. "You don't trust her."

"We mean no disrespect," Jeb began, uncomfortable that she'd sussed out the truth.

"Why do people say that when they're obviously going to disrespect someone?" DG demanded. She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "Look, I'm going to pretend that you didn't just insult my sister and tell you a few things. Az is the only person who can ride _him_." She pointed to the black stallion housed at the very end of the row. The horse was tossing its head with impatience and dancing in place. "Even your father can't ride him, Jeb. If that's not a measure of her skill, I don't know what is."

She moved towards Popsicle's stall. "You idiots need to get over your ridiculous prejudice against my sister, you know why? You want the best. _No one _is better than Az. And if you want your Queen's _Riders_ to succeed, you'll ask for her help."

* * *

**Please let me know what you think!**

I should mention that I'll be drawing on various Oz literature throughout this story - meaning L. Frank Baum's Oz books and Gregory Maguire's Wicked Years series. I'm also adding influences from some of my favorite science fiction and fantasies - fans of Tamora Pierce's work will realize just where I've gotten the idea for the Queen's Riders. I would have changed the name, but it was kind of perfect as it was. :)

Much thanks goes to MatsuMama for being such a wonderful beta.


	3. Choosing Horses

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: "River Understands Simon" from the Firefly soundtrack

* * *

The next morning, Azkadellia rose early to exercise Freeheart, as she did every morning. She never felt quite as free of the witch as she did when she rode the black stallion. He was one of the precious few things the witch had not been able to touch.

She slipped quietly into the stables so as not to disturb the grooms. The grooms were perhaps the only palace servants who were not frightened by her. She had their respect for being the only one who could tame Freeheart without breaking him and for knowing horses as well as they did. She never shirked on stable duties and mucked out Freeheart's stall when she needed to. And perhaps some of them remembered the young princess who'd followed them everywhere to learn everything she could about horses.

She suppressed a delighted giggle as Freeheart's head came up immediately. He always seemed to know when she was around. He danced impatiently, tossing his head.

"I know, I know, you're impatient to go," she said soothingly as she went into his stall. She laughed as he bumped her chest with his head. She took that great head in her hands and stroked him, crooning softly. "I'll just give you a quick check and then we'll ride, okay?"

Freeheart lipped the pocket of her jacket in response. "You greedy guts," she laughed. "You're fed the best oats and you still beg for treats. All right, here you go." She fed him the small pieces of an apple she'd quartered and saddled him.

"All right, my heart," she whispered as she steered the stallion towards the open fields. "Let's go." Freeheart's muscles bunched beneath her and off they went. She laughed openly, freely as they raced together over rolling green hills. When Freeheart ran, she often felt like they could leap into the sky together and just fly away. It was a wistful thought.

When the pair returned to the stables, Jeb was waiting. His arms were folded behind his back, sky-blue eyes inscrutable. Azkadellia felt a slight pang in her chest as the early morning light glinted off his blond curls. In a corner of her mind, she acknowledged that the younger Cain was exceptionally handsome, but she never thought beyond that, as she so often did when confronted with a handsome man. What man, especially a man like Jeb Cain, would ever look at her in the aftermath of the witch? "Good morning, Commander Cain," she said softly, dismounting from Freeheart and leading him to his stall.

"Your Highness." His voice was carefully neutral as he shifted to watch her. He had seen Azkadellia the sorceress several times from afar, and it was still astonishing how different the woman in front of him seemed from her. Gone were the ornamented, rigid, corseted gowns, replaced by a practical brown riding habit. Her hair was not elaborately styled, but pulled back in a ponytail. Most intriguing of all though was her utter lack of presence. The sorceress had had an aura of terror and blackness that permeated everything around her. This woman simply faded into the background.

What was he doing here? she wondered, slightly nervous. "Are you going to ride this morning? The weather is beautiful."

"Perhaps later." He watched as she removed saddle and bridle, his eyebrows arching into his hairline as she toed over a stool and began a methodical examination of the stallion's hooves, metal hoof pick in hand. The stallion was surprisingly docile and only showed nerves when he looked at Jeb. "There are grooms for this job, you know."

She stiffened. "Freeheart is and has always been my responsibility." She shifted to Freeheart's other side and began checking his other hooves. "I believe that a rider who does not care for every aspect of his or her horse has no right be riding them. A rider must know every strength and weakness and know how to deal with them. How can that happen if someone else is taking care of their horse?"

There was steel in her voice, Jeb mused. And she had a point. "I stand corrected, Your Highness. If I may say so, Freeheart is an exceptional horse." Perhaps DG wasn't so wrong in suggesting her sister. The Riders had to be able to care for their own mount and keep them up to par. It seemed that she would be uncompromising when it came to a horse's health.

"He is, thank you." No one knew that more than she. Az eyed him as she reached for a towel and a currycomb. He was just standing there and watching her – what for? Finally, she couldn't stand it anymore. "Is there something you want, Commander Cain?"

She was incredibly meticulous in her grooming, he noticed. She missed nary a spot and from the stallion's lack of reaction, it was obvious she did this every day. It wasn't some show she was putting on for his benefit. "I have a proposition for you, Your Highness."

Az's hand stilled. "A proposition?" She replaced the currycomb with a dandy brush.

"I am in need of someone with an in-depth knowledge of horseflesh and breeding. I still have yet to decide on what horses the Riders will need, and I need someone experienced in riding to aid the trainees. Many will not have any knowledge of horseback riding. My own experience paired with Lieutenant Switzer's is not enough." It rankled him to have to say that. "Your sister suggested that I ask you."

"DG?" Azkadellia said faintly. Why on earth would she volunteer her to do that? She was instantly aware of the paradox – she would help train those who would hunt down her – the witch's – former subordinates. How could they trust her to do so?

She wasn't aware that she'd said the latter aloud until Jeb answered her. "Honestly, I don't," he said flatly. "Rest assured that I will watch you very carefully to make sure you don't screw with my trainees, Your Highness."

Azkadellia whirled to face him, hurt and anger flashing over her face. "How dare you presume that I would deliberately sabotage your operation!" Freeheart, sensing his mistress' distress, tossed his head and neighed loudly. She instantly turned to him, stroking his head and humming softly.

Jeb let out a long, quiet breath. He half-expected her to turn him into something awful, not rein in her emotions and calm her horse. It was an interesting reaction, one that required further contemplation.

When the stallion calmed down, Azkadellia turned to face him once more. "It is obvious that you don't trust me and dislike me intensely, Commander Cain." Her voice was carefully controlled. "Why are you even asking me to do this if that is the case?" She began to give Freeheart a final rubdown with a grooming rag.

"Because I need the best for the Riders and DG said you're the best."

"How can we work together when you obviously don't trust me?"

He sighed. "Perhaps we can call a truce."

Az stared. "A truce?"

Jeb gritted his teeth. "We will try for a decent working relationship." And perhaps the Realm of the Unwanted was really Finaqua.

The princess looked at him for a good long moment. "All right," she said finally, turning back to Freeheart.

"Good. Are you available this afternoon?"

"I am."

"Until this afternoon, then." Jeb bowed curtly and strode out of the stables.

Az stroked Freeheart's mane. "What have I gotten myself into?" she murmured. The stallion blew on her hair affectionately.

"What have I gotten myself into?" Jeb grumbled. Outside, he ran into the head hostler. "Hello Rojer."

Rojer was a short, quiet man who preferred horses to humans. "Commander Cain," he said respectfully.

Jeb glanced back at the stables. It certainly hadn't escaped his notice that the groomsmen were the only palace servants that seemed to accept Azkadellia. "Why do you trust her?" he blurted out.

The head groomsman looked at him reproachfully. Beneath that gaze, Jeb felt like a small child. "What witch would care for a horse?" With a polite bow, he ambled away.

Jeb had nothing to say to that.

* * *

Az smoothed a hand over her spring green dress and smiled nervously at Raw. "Thank you for coming with me," she told the Viewer. "It means a lot that someone will sit with me. I need a friendly face."

"Raw happy Azkadee ask for help. Raw glad to be friend." He offered an arm. "We go."

The princess took it with a happy smile. She was still unnerved from young Jeb Cain's unexpected proposal. DG and her parents had been supportive – of course DG would, she had volunteered her in the first place. They seemed to believe that if the Queen's Riders could come to support her, it would be the first step in getting the whole Outer Zone to accept her. But Az could not shake the fact that _he_ did not trust her.

But really, how could she blame him, when she barely trusted herself?

Raw stopped walking. "Raw? Is something wrong?" Az asked, confused.

"Azkadee have nothing to prove," the Viewer said firmly. "Azkadee _want _Riders to succeed. Show them."

It warmed her heart that he would believe in her so much. It was true – she did want the Riders to succeed. And if there was any way she could help, well…it would be a victory for her and all those who stood beside her. "You're right," she said. "I'll earn their trust. Especially Jeb Cain's." Raw smiled like a proud father and together they walked into the small audience chamber.

Jeb and Jem got to their feet, bowing slightly as Azkadellia and Raw entered. "Welcome Your Highness. Ambassador Raw," Jeb said politely. "Let's get down to business, shall we?"

Az smiled gratefully at Raw as he pulled out a chair for her. "What business would you like to discuss, Commander Cain?" She folded her hands lightly, ignoring the way the other man – Lieutenant Switzer, she remembered – was determinedly _not _looking in her direction.

"Horse breeds," Jeb said briskly. "Most officers in the army ride Quoxians, so those are the kinds Jem and I are most familiar with. We're not sure if they're right for the Riders, though."

"Quoxians," Az said thoughtfully. "Good, mid-range breed with exceptional sprinting abilities. Fourteen to sixteen hands high, long and lean with powerful hindquarters and legs. Extremely intelligent, but somewhat high-strung."

Jeb nodded. "Yes. Jem and I were discussing this already, and we think the Riders should have horses that are bred more for endurance, though occasional bursts of speed would be a bonus. They need to be able to cross a wide variety of terrain easily. They need to be intelligent and bond with their riders. It would be nice if they had an easier disposition as well." He settled back. "Do you have any suggestions?"

Why did she feel like he was testing her? No matter, she was here to prove herself – and prove herself she would. "Endurance, speed, all-terrain, intelligent…" Az trailed off. "You want Vedu Cloudrunners."

"Vedu? You're suggesting we go to the Vedu? Correct me if I'm wrong, but from my experience the Vedu never sell their horses," Jeb said slowly. The Vedu were a nomadic tribe that wandered the desert between the O.Z. and the kingdoms of Ev and Fliaan. They had a reputation as fierce horsemen, and the horses they bred were the envy of many kingdoms.

She shook her head. "No, they don't sell the Windrunners. Cloudrunners are different. They are more stocky and hardy than Windrunners. They don't run as fast, but they are bred for longer distances. They are every bit as intelligent, and not as high-spirited, though they have plenty of spirit. Like all Vedu horses, they're often brought into the family tent, thus they bond well with humans and are eager to please. Traditionally, they were trained for the hunt, so they are brave and calm in situations of duress. Need I go on?"

Jeb glanced at his second-in-command. "Jem, what do you think?"

"I think they sound perfect," the redhead said reluctantly.

"So do I." He turned to Azkadellia. "How are you so sure that the Vedu will sell these Cloudrunners? They sound just as valuable as those Windrunners."

"They don't sell Windrunners because they believe they are the soul of the Tribes," she remarked, thinking back. It had been years since she'd thought of the Vedu. "The Fliaan Royal Army uses Cloudrunners. Quoxians are descended from them. It's just that the O.Z. has only ever wanted Windrunners, so the Cloudrunners are overlooked."

"How do we go about negotiating with the Vedu?"

"I have some contacts," Az said vaguely.

"How do you have Vedu contacts?" Jeb asked suspiciously. The Vedu were also highly insular and hostile towards foreigners.

Az bristled. Of course he would jump to conclusions, never mind that the Vedu kept strictly to their business and were indifferent to the goings-on in other kingdoms unless expressly threatened. They were neutral in that sense. "If you must know," she said tersely, "My mother spearheaded an effort to create a diplomatic union between the Vedu and the O.Z. when I was a child. Those contacts will remember us."

"Ah." Jeb had the grace to look embarrassed. "Cloudrunners it is then," he muttered. "Let's move on to training strategies."

* * *

"No." Queen Lavender shook her head. "I absolutely forbid it, Azkadellia."

"With all due respect, Mother, I _must_ go with Commander Cain to the Vedu." Azkadellia stood straight and tall. For once, conviction made her shed the timid persona she'd carried after the Double Eclipse. "The only way any Outlander group is getting through their borders is with me."

"And how does that work, Azkadellia?" Ahamo said, concern forcing lines across his face. "The last time I checked, you're an Outlander."

"This is _dangerous_, Azkadellia. We have not had contact with the Vedu in quite some time, how can you be sure that they will accept you?" After a short pause, the Queen continued. "It is not safe for you to be traveling in a small group."

"Four, to be exact. Four is an auspicious number in Vedu tradition," Az said, remembering. "And you needn't worry about me getting into a Vedu camp."

"Again, I ask – _how_?" Her father demanded.

"You just have to believe in me. It is my hope that Sheikh Jaasir remembers me," Az said, looking at both of her parents. She was bluffing, of course - but no one had to know that. "If it makes you feel better, I'll wear a cloaking glamour until we reach the border."

The Queen deflated. "Darling, I just can't stand the thought of you out there by yourself-"

"I won't be by myself." She glanced off to the side and smiled. "With your permission, I'd like Raw and Glitch to come as well. Glitch is an army unto himself."

"Aw shucks, you're making me blush, Azkadee."

"Commander Cain will come with us, of course. So between him and Glitch, I'll be all right, I promise." She came around the table and knelt between her parents' chairs, taking their hands. "You have to understand, this is something I need to do. I'll be doing something besides sitting in the palace all day, and it's for the Riders."

Her parents exchanged a significant look. "Very well," Ahamo said finally. "We know that it's something you have to do, but-" He raised a finger as a smile spread across her face. "That doesn't have to mean we like it."

"Thank you, Daddy." She hugged both of them. "We leave in four days." She bustled out of the room flushed with victory, her mind already whirling with plans.

"Raw, Ambrose, we're depending on you to protect her," Queen Lavender said softly, taking her husband's hand. "The stress of this might be too much for her, and without DG…"

Glitch sat up straight in his chair, serious for once. "Don't worry, your Majesty. You know I would protect Azkadee with my life."

"Raw watch Azkadee," was the Viewer's input. "Raw help heal."

"Jeb will be there, too," Glitch said. "He'll protect her."

Ahamo sighed. "I'm not so sure about that." He glanced at Cain, who stood silently by the door. "No offense, Wyatt. But I feel as though Jeb would feel there's more cause to protect them from her than protect her from anything else."

Cain's ice blue eyes were broody. "No offense taken, Your Majesty." I worry about that too, he thought.

* * *

**Please review!**

I am so, so happy with the response this is getting. You guys are wonderful! Big hugs go to my beta, MatsuMama. Oh, and one more thing - yes, I've brought back Az's big, black stallion, but there's a little more to him.


	4. Into the West

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: "Becoming a Geisha" from the Memoirs of a Geisha soundtrack, then the "Heart of Gold Montage" from the Firefly soundtrack for the last part of the chapter

* * *

"I can't believe you're going off on an adventure without me," DG said mournfully, folding a dress and shoving it into a saddlebag.

"It's not an adventure, Deej, it's business," Az laughed from her desk, holding a glowing hand over a crystal pendant. "That should be enough. What do you think?" She slipped it over her head. Sitting in her place was a dusky-skinned woman with black hair and black eyes. "I'll wear a head cloth. People will think I'm some dishonored Vedu bride."

"You've done your research," DG said with approval, testing the glamour with her own magic and finding it solid. "It will seem like some delicate diplomatic matter, which would explain the presence of Glitch, Raw, and Jeb."

The woman removed the crystal and the real Az was revealed. "I've added some small magic to the cord," she murmured. "It shouldn't tear or unravel, and the glamour itself is undetectable to other magic. It shouldn't leave any sort of power signature."

"You've really put some thought into this."

"Yes well, I don't want to get into any more trouble than I'm already in." Her laugh was slightly bitter.

"Neither do I." DG's hand went over the pendant as well. "Extra cloaking spells," she said, catching her sister's inquiring look. "I really wish I could go with you," she sighed.

"I think Mother would have a fit. Not to mention Mr. Cain. It would be too risky to have both of us out there. Mother wouldn't allow it unless we had the entire infantry along with us."

"There's that," DG admitted. She looked at her sister out of the corner of her eye. "You're more worried about Jeb than anything else," she guessed.

Az rubbed her forehead. "He hates me," she muttered.

DG winced. "I wouldn't say he hates you...he has reservations about you."

"_That's _putting it lightly." She got up and began to pace, her pale nightgown swirling around her legs. "I don't exactly blame him, Deej, but it makes it difficult to work with him. I'm trying so hard to prove myself, and I feel like the Riders are my chance. I feel like he's so determined to just keep believing that I'm the witch, that it makes it easier somehow." She collapsed on the bed. "I'm _not_ her."

"I _know _you're not, Az." She strode over and seized her hand, the Light glowing brightly between them. "This proves it."

"I know. It's just…the more people doubt me, the more I doubt myself. I sometimes wonder if they see things that I can't…" her voice trailed off.

DG seized her chin and forced her to look at her. "Az, do you know what I see? I see my older sister, the one who always loved me and tried to protect me. I see someone who endured years of imprisonment yet was strong enough to hold on and take action when it mattered. I see someone intelligent, kind, caring, with a heart bigger than the entire Outer Zone. I want you to see _that_ Azkadellia. If you see her, maybe others will too." She plopped on the bed.

Az squeezed her hand. "Thanks, Deej." Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes.

"Yeah well, you better remember that speech. It's patented now, Dr. Phil kind of stuff." At her sister's raised eyebrow, she was forced to explain just who the psychologist-turned-television personality was. The explanation then dragged on as she extolled on the not-quite virtues of daytime talk shows.

Eventually, Az spoke. "He sounds like a…fraud."

"Oh, he's a total hack!" The two dissolved into giggles.

"I'll miss you, Az. Be safe and come back, okay?"

"I promise, Deej."

The two fell asleep, still hand-in-hand.

* * *

The deception began the next morning. Maja, one of the few female members of the Gale Force, was disguised as Azkadellia thanks to another glamour. Maja slipped into the palace as Az slipped out. Maja's orders were to stay as isolated as possible to reduce the number of people who saw her, which was fine since Az was a solitary person by nature. Maja would simply keep to Az's rooms, venturing out every once and a while to take a turn about the garden or have dinner with her "family."

That afternoon, Azkadellia appeared at the palace gates as a Vedu princess. News spread that this princess had been kidnapped by a Longcoat and forced into marriage. With the return of the House of Gale and the defeat of the witch her husband had fled, leaving her behind. She gathered her belongings and now asked for the assistance of the Queen, from one royal to another.

So it was no surprise to the idle (or not so idle) observer that two days later the Vedu princess left the Northern Palace with Ambassador Raw, the Queen's Advisor, and a colonel of the Royal Army (who, it was rumored, wished to purchase Vedu horses). An alliance with the Vedu was something few countries managed to achieve, and it remained to be seen if it would be valuable.

The party of four struck west, as per Azkadellia's instructions. Their path would lead them through the northern portion of the Great Kells and across the Vinkus, straddling the border between the Thursk Desert and the Thousand Year Grasslands. From there, they would cross the border of the O.Z. into the Great Desert.

The group traveled swift and light, riding alongside the Gillikin River to the Northern Pass. They camped at the foot of the Great Kells, which climbed, purple and majestic, into the sky. The horses were watered and groomed, a task that was overseen by Az, before the camp was made. It was Glitch who cooked, testing a recipe for trail rations.

A packet of dried noodles, vegetables, and herbs was dropped into a pot of boiling water for a quick soup. Jeb caught a long-tailed hare as well, completing the meal. It was surprisingly good. The noodle packets, Jeb declared, would be perfect field rations for the Queen's Riders. Dinner was a mostly quiet affair, with Jeb and Glitch discussing further ideas for field rations. Az and Raw ate silently, keeping their thoughts to themselves.

"We need to decide who will take what watch," Jeb said briskly as they cleaned up after dinner. "Glitch, Raw, if you two could take two shifts along with me, we should-"

"I am perfectly capable of keeping watch, Commander Cain." Az's quiet voice sliced through the darkness. "There's no need for anyone here to take two shifts."

He blinked at her, and part of her mind observed that he had incredibly long eyelashes. "Your Highness, it is not necessary. You are not expected to keep watch." Nor do I want you to. The words unspoken hung in the air. She smiled wanly. Obviously, he believed that she would try to do something devious while they slept.

"I am part of this group, Commander Cain. I will do everything that is required of me, princess or not. I do not shirk my duties." Her gaze met his, glamour-made brown to jolting blue, over the fire. Glitch patted her knee and Raw rumbled approvingly. She felt her resolve strengthen in light of their support.

"Fine," Jeb said eventually. "In that case, Highness, I suggest you take the first shift. I will take the one after you."

"Raw can go before me," Glitch yawned, stretching lazily. "I'm a morning person, myself."

Az nodded. "Is everyone finished using the latrine? I will put up the protections." She got to her feet, unwinding the headscarf she'd worn all day.

Jeb stood as well, eying her warily. "What protections?"

"A protective barrier," she said, trying not to bristle. "No one will be able to see or hear us or get into the camp, but we will still be able to see and hear everything around us." She began walking a wide perimeter around the camp, making sure to give the horses plenty of room. She chanted softly under her breath, white fire falling from her fingers to mark the boundary in the soil. When she closed the circle, the fire sank into the ground.

The young commander walked over and put out his hand. His palm flattened against the air as though they were surrounded by a structure of glass. "This is good," was his grudging admission.

"I'm glad you approve," she muttered under her breath as she removed the crystal pendant from her neck. With no prying eyes or ears, she wanted to be herself. Her lips flattened into a bleak line when she saw the way Jeb's entire demeanor stiffened at the sight of her face. "You should all sleep." Her serene voice betrayed nothing.

Glitch was already crawling into his bedroll. "Night!" he said cheerfully.

Raw put a paw on her shoulder. "See Azkadee in morning."

"Goodnight, Glitch. Goodnight, Raw." She glanced over to where Jeb was bedding down. "Goodnight, Commander Cain." He grunted in response.

Az knew very well that he wasn't going to sleep during her shift. For once, she was grateful for his distrust. It was comforting to know that someone would be awake with her. She didn't quite trust the wilderness; it would be all too easy to hear the witch's voice on the wind with no other sounds to block it.

She sat down by the fire and began to write letters to DG and her parents. Tutor had shown them a simple sending spell that worked for light objects. The palace would not be lacking in reports and her family would have peace of mind.

When it finally came time to trade shifts with Jeb, Az all but collapsed in her bedroll, falling asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. As she slept, she dreamed – not of the witch, but of memories long past and long forgotten.

* * *

_ She wasn't going to sulk. Princesses did _not _sulk, especially at her age (an especially dignified thirteen annuals). Az plopped down at the spring behind the sheikh's scarlet attar, straining her ears to catch _any _information from the meeting. Her lower lip stuck out in indignation when she found she couldn't hear a thing._

_ It was infuriating that her mother wouldn't let her sit in on the diplomacy meetings with Sheikh Jaasir Abd al Ati of the Red Fox tribe and his advisors. There was nothing for her to do in this desert camp because no one would take her exploring and DG was back at home with Father. She missed them desperately._

_ Why_ _couldn't she be there at her mother's side? She was sure that she could understand most of the things they were talking about. It was only two annuals before that her governess turned her over to Sir Ambrose's tutelage, stating that she had taught her all that she could. It was the perfect partnership: she loved the search for knowledge just as much as her mother's advisor. Just before their trip to the Vedu, he'd made sure to go over politics and foreign policy._

_ Besides, if she was going to be Queen one day, she _needed _to know how such things went._

_ But her mother had forbidden it, saying that it might offend the sheikh to have such a young child at such important meetings. They were treading on eggshells with the sheikh as it was – he only barely accommodated their request for an audience and negotiations for a possible alliance. At least, that's what Sir Ambrose told her._

_ It wasn't so bad, Az thought. Sir Ambrose would tell her everything later and they would discuss it together, looking for something that might help. He told her that she was an excellent problem solver and strategist – and that wasn't just because she beat him at a game of chess for the first time._

_ Az got to her feet, adjusting her headscarf. If she couldn't sit in on the higher politics of the Vedu, perhaps she could see the day-to-day politics, provided that she remained hidden and discreet. The Vedu were a fascinating people. They seemed cold and aloof, but she'd heard the sounds of their music and celebrations late into the night. They were a mystery, and she wanted to know more about them._

_ Movement from the attar caught her attention and she darted behind one of the many date palms that dotted the Red Rocks camp. A tall, lanky figure exited and strode down one of the paths. From the color of his scarf – a blood red that was so dark and rich that it was almost black – she knew it could only be Rajah Abd al Ati, the sheikh's only son._

_ She instantly started after him. The Vedu "prince" was a person of interest to her, and not just because he was so handsome._

_ She blushed. He really was handsome. His black eyes were sharp and piercing, his entire visage seemingly carved from marble. She'd found a romance novel in the library once and snorted at the descriptions, but if anyone had a noble brow, it was he. He was the very epitome of a romantic hero to a thirteen-year-old girl, especially since he was only four years older._

_ But that wasn't the only reason why she thought he was so interesting. He never spoke a word, but she was sure that he did what she had been trained to do – observe, and then report back to someone, perhaps an advisor or even his father. She had no doubt that beneath his silence was a mind to match her own._

_ This was the perfect opportunity to observe _him _more. She forgot all about watching others in the camp and followed after him, trailing him as he made his way down the path. Eventually, he came to a halt, where a groves of date palms cleared._

_ Az's eyes went round and she darted behind one of the palms. She'd never seen this part of the camp before – the trees must have been cleared for this area, which looked like a wide, grassy plain. The plain was filled with horses._

_ There were dozens and dozens of them, the most beautiful ones she'd ever seen. These were the Windrunners and the Cloudrunners, the horses that defined the Vedu as a people. She'd only seen a few in the camp, and never this close. Words could not describe the delight she felt as she stared at the creatures in front of her. It was easy to distinguish the two horses: the Windrunners were taller, more gracile and noble, their coats glossy and solid in color, ranging from white to black and every shade of brown, red, and gold in between. The Cloudrunners were shorter, stockier, and brightly patterned in all sorts of colors. However, both shone with the distinct fire and intelligence that epitomized a Vedu horse._

_ Now, Az loved her Quoxian, Mara. She had trained her herself. But Mara paled in comparison to these beauties that seemed to almost glitter with spirit and life. She was swamped with envy – she would give anything to ride a Vedu horse, especially one of the Windrunners. However, Outlanders were forbidden to ride them, according to some old tradition. She'd have to ask Sir Ambrose again. But a Cloudrunner – perhaps she could ask someone. The grooms back in the O.Z. were never going to believe this._

_ The prince – Rajah – strode into the clearing and whistled sharply. A blood-red bay stallion came galloping up. He tossed a saddle on its back and quickly buckled it before vaulting up. Az's eyes widened. He hadn't used stirrups – there _were _no stirrups with that saddle, or bridle. He said something in Vedu, but she was too far away to hear the command. However, she saw the way the stallion's sides rippled, his muscles tensing and bunching before he galloped off. She watched them go wistfully.

* * *

_

The trek through the Northern Pass was long and treacherous, as the area was known for banditry. Az's protections kept them safe at night, when they were in the most danger. There were several close calls, but Jeb guided the small party around bandit traps and camps. Eventually the Northern Pass gave way and they began the next leg of their journey across the Vinkus, land of the Winkies. It was Glitch's ancestral homeland, and he still had distant relatives that lived deep in the heart of the Thousand Year Grasslands.

Az spent much of the ride educating (and reeducating, in Glitch's case) the group on Vedu culture and etiquette.

"The Vedu have a very strict code of honor," she said one day. "One's honor, _sharaf_, is held sacred above all else. It is not easy to maintain and easily lost. Once lost, it is nearly impossible to get back."

"What does this code of honor entail?" Jeb asked.

"The usual virtues," she murmured. "Honesty, charity, respect, rectitude, loyalty, wisdom, hospitality…"

"I remember that!" Glitch said suddenly, startling his horse. Even though the two halves of his brain had been reunited and the zipper removed, the advisor wasn't quite whole. He no longer "glitched", but memories were tenuous, so he could not always recall the things he had once known. His personality often shifted between Glitch and Ambrose as the two sides of his brain struggled to reconnect. "Hospitality…they always serve you tea and you can never refuse. You can't refuse gifts either, because they'll be very offended."

Az nodded. "Yes, they regard hospitality and generosity very seriously. Within the tribes, everyone takes care of each other. In extreme cases they even take care of their enemies, providing them with food and shelter."

Jeb looked mildly derisive, a corner of his lip curling up in a smirk. "What is that, some skewed version of keeping friends close but enemies closer?"

"No." Az shook her head. "It's not about that. It's all about honor and treating everyone, even one's enemies, with respect."

"Then why are they so hostile to Outlanders? Why do they let so few of us go through their land?"

"Those are extreme cases, as I've said. And why should they treat Outlanders with respect when we barely extend them the same courtesy?" she asked angrily. "The Vedu have always been considered barbarians, but-"

"You forgot to mention courage, Azkadee," Glitch interrupted.

She glanced at the head case. He smiled back at her, all innocence. "Courage is one of the major components of the honor code," she said slowly. "I don't just mean plunging blindly into battle, though there is a time and place for that. It can also mean enduring great physical or mental pain. But for the Vedu, courage is knowing the danger to come, preparing for it, and seeing it through to the end, no matter what."

"Vedu intense people," was Raw's input.

She smiled. "Yes they are."

The ride to the border continued along that vein. Despite the week of travel in close company, the group's dynamic never really changed. Though Az never did anything suspicious, Jeb's doubts seemed to compound instead of abate, which affected everyone's mood. Az was alternately enraged, saddened, and homesick. Raw, who easily picked up her emotions, was moody. Even Glitch seemed more subdued.

The only one who seemed happy was Freeheart. The stallion grew more and more antsy with each day. It grew harder for the three Quoxians to keep up with him, and when he was not running, he danced impatiently and snorted often.

"What's wrong with your horse?" Jeb said irritably as they approached the border of the Great Desert. "Can't you control him?"

Az remained silent. She knew, as few people did, that Freeheart could smell the desert on the wind. He knew that he was coming home.

As was she, in a way. The desert was one of the few places that truly felt like home to her. Such was her awareness that she knew the exact moment they crossed the border into the desert. By this time, all three of her companions were sporting headscarves that blocked the relentless beat of the sun and the sting of the wind, protecting the face.

She removed the crystal pendant, slipping it into the pouch on her hip.

"What are you doing?" Jeb yelled over the wind. "People will see you."

"I don't need it anymore," was the simple reply. "And I will do the talking."

"To who?" he demanded. "There's nothing but desert all around us. How do you even know where-"

A particularly strong gust of wind that smelled of magic and spices blew up around them, stirring the sand into a miniature sandstorm. The four covered their faces.

When the sand settled, they found themselves confronted by four other riders. They were dressed in white, a sharp contrast to their swarthy skin and black eyes and hair. They wore long, wickedly curved swords on their hips, and their horses…

_These _were the Vedu Windrunners, the soul of the Tribes. They were built along strong, graceful lines, standing tall at sixteen to seventeen hands. Their bearing was noble, with heads and tails held high. Their entire frame spoke of strength, speed, and endurance. Their eyes gleamed with intelligence and fire. Each stallion – for they were stallions – was a different color. One was copper red, one pure white, one night black, and the last gleaming bronze.

Az thought she heard Jeb sigh with envy.

"Strangers, you trespass on Vedu land," said the rider of the bronze stallion in heavily accented Standard. "What business have you here?"

Az urged Freeheart closer, dropping his reins. "We mean no harm. We merely request a guide to the Red Fox tribe of the east."

"We do not open our camps to foreign devils, stranger." This came from the rider of the black stallion. "Who are you to demand this of us?"

"The rider of Freeheart demands this of you."

Az's companions stared. The border guards stared. For suddenly, it was plain to see what Freeheart truly was – a Windrunner, equal to any of the horses standing before him. Jeb wondered how he'd missed this. Freeheart really _was_ something different.

"You _dare,_" the black rider snarled. He drew his sword, pointing it at her. "You _dare _sully a soul of the Tribes with your tainted Outlander blood!"

Despite himself, Jeb tensed, his hand going to his pistol. Raw growled and Glitch tensed, ready to spring from his horse if need be. Az held up a hand. "No," she said, steeling herself. "I will handle this. Once, the Red Fox tribe called me Aesha, the _sha'at sheba_. Sheikh Jaasir gave both names to me." And Freeheart, she suspected, but she kept that to herself. "Who are you to deny me passage to him?"

She looked like a queen as she claimed that strange title. That thought hovered in the edges of Jeb's consciousness as he eyed the border guards. Somewhere between the Northern Palace and the edge of the desert, she'd transformed into someone else, someone completely different from the witch or the timid princess.

He didn't know what to make of it.

* * *

**Please review!**

I am so, so ecstatic at the response this story is getting. Each and every review makes my day. You're all so wonderful!

On a side note, I'm going to be making up words for the Vedu language, and I'll put the translations here, at the bottom of the chapter. Az's title, _sha'at sheba_, will be explained in the next chapter.

_Attar - _the largest style of a Vedu tent, reserved for the sheikh and his family. It is similar in construction to a very large Bedouin tent.


	5. The Red Rocks

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: "Desert" from Cirque du Soleil's _O _soundtrack

* * *

Azkadellia's statement seemed to strike everyone dumb. Glitch frowned, a long-forgotten memory beginning to surface in his churned-up mind. Finally, it was the red rider who spoke, his eyes directly humbly at the ground. "Ma'at, forgive me. It has been years since the Red Fox tribe has seen you, and I was but a boy when you came." He turned to the other rider. "Fool!" he hissed in Vedu. Only Az and Glitch could understand. "She is the ma'at Aesha, she who Sheikh Jaasir regards as his daughter. And you have drawn your sword on her!"

The black rider went ashen beneath his tan, sheathing his sword immediately. He bowed his head in Az's direction. "Forgive me, ma'at!" he cried.

"I understand the need to protect the soul of the Tribes, so there is nothing to forgive," she said in perfect Vedu, to everyone's astonishment but Glitch's. "I would see Sheikh Jaasir, for it has been long since I have seen his face."

It was the white rider who spoke now. "You and your companions are welcome, ma'at. Ahmet will be your guide to Red Fox. The rest of us will leave you, for this is a matter best left to them." There was censure in his tone, and the black rider seemed to cringe, though it was hard to tell beneath his headscarf. With another swirl of wind, the white, bronze, and black riders disappeared, leaving the red rider – Ahmet – with them.

Jeb stared. "How-how did they-"

"It's their version of a travel storm," Glitch answered. "They have spells that tell them the moment someone steps over the border into their land, and they send a protector from each of the four tribes to confront and assess the threat." He scratched his head. "Wow, how did I remember that?"

"I imagine you'll remember a lot, Glitch," Az said softly. "The desert makes you remember the things you've forgotten." Her voice grew soft. "Even things you wish to forget."

Ahmet cleared his throat politely. "We will not be using the Traveling Sands to reach the camp, for it is nearby." He glanced at the three Quoxians. "They are also quite unsuitable for any horse that has not been trained by the Tribes."

The party moved onwards. Jeb urged his horse forward until he was riding beside Az. "Your Highness, I think you have some explaining to do," he said through gritted teeth. He didn't like having what seemed like important information withheld from him, especially with this new attitude of hers.

Amethyst eyes flashed dangerously. "I don't owe you any explanations here, Commander Cain." Her voice was perfectly controlled. "Though I suppose you'll find out soon enough." Before he could reply, Freeheart galloped ahead to fall in line with Ahmet.

It was only then that Jeb realized that she hadn't used a bridle to command Freeheart. He wondered if he'd ever seen her using it at all. Her mystery was deepening.

Glitch and Raw caught up with him. "Our horses pale in comparison to those beauties," he clucked. "Just like as horsemen, we pale in comparison to their riders."

"Glitch, what were those things the riders called her?"

"Hmmm?" The advisor's brow furrowed. "I'm sorry, Jeb, what was that?"

"The titles they called her? You seemed to understand what they were saying."

"Oh, that!" He grinned goofily. "Well, ma'at means lady, but not just any lady. High status, like the wives and daughters of the sheikh."

"Wait, _wives_?"

"Oh yes! Did no one tell you? The Vedu are polygamous."

The younger Cain choked. Raw reached over and patted him on the back. "All right then. So they consider her a lady. What about the other thing, that phrase, _sha'at sheba_?"

"That's harder to explain." He was quite obviously going into Ambrose mode. "The Vedu language is quite complex – I've studied it, you know." His eye twitched. "At least, I think I have. Anyway, one little syllable could have a whole range of meaning, depending on the intonation and the context. It's quite beautiful, actually. One can never really tell what the translation of a poem or song will be, because it changes every time-"

Jeb rolled his eyes. "The meaning, Glitch."

"Oh! Right." He paused. "_Sha'at sheba _can mean many things. I think the most literal term would be 'wise wind of the east,' but that barely explains it. If one changes the intonation slightly to _Sha'at Sheba_, that's the name of the Vedu's patron goddess. It means 'wise sun' because Sheba is the sun goddess as well as the goddess of wisdom."

"Glitch, what-"

"Let me continue. The Vedu believe that at the beginning of time, humans had no honor. They would live day to day eating, drinking, fighting, procreating…" Glitch turned pink at that. "And so forth. It was a meaningless existence. They had nothing to strive for, no purpose. Sheba, the goddess, changed that.

"As legend goes Sheba came out of the east, riding a stallion, Iftekhar, whose very name means honor. Sheba gave Iftekhar to the people, thus giving them a purpose. Iftekhar was the very first Windrunner. The Vedu take the rearing of horses very seriously, you see. It was a god-given task. And since Iftekhar means honor…well, you can see why honor is so important as well."

"That still doesn't tell me why-"

Glitch sighed. "_Sheba_. Sheba came out of the east. Think about the parallels."

He was beginning to get frustrated. "What parallels?"

"You know, bits and pieces of my memories are starting to come back," the brown-haired man said thoughtfully, seemingly ignoring Jeb's queries. "A year before Azkadee was possessed by that horrible hag, the Queen took some of the court on a diplomatic trip to the Vedu. Think about it – the O.Z. is east of the Great Desert."

"So?"

"And Azkadee…well, few adults can keep up with me. Azkadee at thirteen years old could defeat me in chess at least once a week. So, there's wisdom." Jeb rolled his eyes and motioned for him to continue. Glitch shook his head inwardly. The boy did not have the patience to simply enjoy the story – nor the perception to grasp its meaning. Jeb needed to know that there was more to Azkadellia than he could ever imagine. "And she loves horses. I think…" he frowned as the thread unraveled in his mind. "Nope. Can't seem to grasp at that particular memory. I'll tell you when I remember."

"You're trying to tell me that these people think she's another Sheba?"

"Only in a figurative sense, maybe." He wished that he could say more, but the words eluded him.

"Azkadee give sheikh purpose." Raw's voice had the faraway quality it took on when he was picking up emotions. "Azkadee give sheikh reason to live."

Jeb frowned deeply. How much stock could he put in what they were telling him? He couldn't reconcile the many faces of Princess Azkadellia. Every time he was sure he had her pegged, some new information came along and was added to the mix. Sometimes, he wasn't sure what to think of her.

But what he did know was that she had secrets. Jeb wasn't the kind of person to begrudge anyone a secret – he had a few of his own. But when someone like Azkadellia had secrets, he couldn't help but think that that was bad for everyone involved.

The landscape of the desert shifted as they traveled. The Thursk desert was comprised of ever-shifting golden sand dunes and continued that way shortly over the border. From there, the desert graduated into dry, rolling hills covered with scrubby bush, short, stubby trees, and strange spiky plants Glitch identified as "cacti." There were no animals to be seen except for the occasional hawk, turning in lazy circles in the sun-bleached sky. It was hard to believe that anything could live in this harsh environment. The whole thing was quite beautiful in its starkness and simplicity, but Jeb preferred greener scenery.

"Are we there yet?" Glitch whined as they trekked through dry formations of rocky red soil that were too big to be called hills and too small to be mountains. "I'm starting to get saddle sores on my saddle sores." He envied the way the two Windrunners seemed to glide over the desert surface. It was almost certain that Ahmet and Azkadellia had better seats. The hours that passed since they crossed the border had been torturous. He wondered what Ahmet meant by "nearby."

"Only a little while longer," Ahmet promised.

The rest of the ride was endured in silence. Suddenly, Az urged Freeheart forward. "We're here!" she shouted joyfully. The three following behind looked at each other and spurred their horses up and over the rise.

Jeb's breath stuck in his throat. He'd never seen anything quite so beautiful in his life. Below them was a valley ringed by twisting spires of red rock that bled crimson in the sunlight. Those awe-inspiring formations jutted into a sky so richly blue it hurt the eyes. Fluffy white clouds dotted the sky. Nestled in the valley itself was an enormous verdant green oasis – certainly a sight for sore eyes.

Az had tears in her eyes. "I'd almost forgotten how beautiful it is," she whispered. The familiar formations unlocked the gates of her memories and she remembered what it was like sixteen annuals before.

* * *

_ Azkadellia took to following Rajah every day when he took his rides. She would watch from behind the date palms, her eyes wide with longing. Any thoughts of truly spying on the prince had long dissipated from her mind and with them any decent attempt at hiding._

_ In truth, she would not have been surprised if Rajah had been aware of her from the very first day that she began trailing him. She hoped he would realize that there was no cause for alarm and that she hadn't been put upon to follow him. She sought no information of consequence and reported to no one. She only watched the horses and had no ridiculous plans of spiriting away a Windrunner._

_ Azkadellia wanted nothing more than to be recognized for what she was: a horse lover. Surely no one could not begrudge her the time she spent watching the Windrunners. All she wanted to do was ride a Vedu horse. Perhaps she wanted to be caught, so that the opportunity to ride might be offered to her._

_ What Azkadellia did not know was that Rajah was all too aware of his new shadow. He was indeed a sharp young man, quickly dismissing any notions of Outlander mischief after several days with no hostile overtures towards the Vedu or their horses. He quickly deduced that the young ma'at was purely interested in the horses – he'd seen her riding and concluded that she had natural talent, for an Outlander. He added these observations to the daily reports he delivered to his own father. It was his ritual – he hoped that his inane stories could somehow slip past the catatonic shell his father had erected around himself after the deaths of Hala and Samar two years past. Jaasir Abd al Ati applied himself only to deal with matters of the Tribes. In all other matters, he was like one dead._

_Rajah understood his father's pain, for he had lost his mother and sister on that fateful day when the skies opened up and rare floods terrorized the Red Rocks. But he was still young. He did not fully understand the grief the sheikh held after losing his wife, for Jaasir and Hala had what so few Vedu had: a love match. It was for this reason the sheikh sought no other wives, though it was his right._

_Rajah mourned, for he had lost his vibrant, loving father along with his mother and sister. He desperately hoped that his stories helped to remind his father of his humanity, especially concerning the ma'at Azkadellia. She and Samar would have been of a similar age._

_Surprisingly enough, his stories worked, sparking interest beneath that indifferent shell. For the first time in a long time, Sheikh Jaasir felt something he had not felt in a long time: curiosity. And it would be assuaged.

* * *

_

"Welcome to the Red Rocks, the main camp of the Red Fox tribe," Ahmet declared. Azkadellia shook herself out of her reverie.

"I thought the Vedu were nomadic," Jeb commented, unable to tear his eyes from the scene in front of him as they descended into the valley. People began streaming from brightly colored tents to stop and stare at the Outlanders in their midst.

"A misconception," Ahmet acknowledged with a grin. "We deliberately confuse the paths of the strangers who cross through our lands. They do not know the desert and how its face changes from hour to hour. Thus to those who do not know, it seems like we are continually moving around. That is, of course, aided by the fact that they only pass through the semi-permanent camps. No Outlander is allowed into the main camps or the sacred sites."

"Then why are we here?"

"Special circumstances," was the mysterious reply.

"I could tell you what they are, if I can just remember them," Glitch mused, waving happily at the Vedu. Men and women alike were dressed in shades of white, beige, and taupe, with headscarves to block the sun. The men wore bright sashes around their waists, and the women often had a long scarf, sash, or over-skirt in a bright color or pattern wrapped around them.

Jeb noticed something interesting – the people would cross their hands over their chests to touch the opposite shoulder while bowing their heads – this they did as Azkadellia passed.

"I remember what that means," Glitch whispered. "It's the Vedu way of bowing or curtseying – only members of the sheik's family are awarded such courtesy."

The small party was making their way towards the largest tent – the only one, Jeb observed, that was scarlet red. Red, it seemed, was a prestigious color.

The tent flaps of the large tent flew open and out strode a man dressed in white, a scarlet sash about his waist. His hair and beard were completely white, his eyes intense and black. His face was strong and imposing, with a hawk-like nose and a stubborn chin. Though he was obviously aged, he was not old – the very air around him seemed to vibrate with the strength of his power and presence.

"Where is she?" he demanded in flawless Standard. "Where is my Aesha?"

Azkadellia choked back a sob and all but tumbled from Freeheart's saddle, nearly tripping as she made her way over to him. Jeb watched in fascination as she skidded to a halt about a foot away and then knelt, as if to touch his feet.

The man seized her shoulders. "None of that, _ati_," he scolded gently. "Child, you have traveled far and suffered much. How could you think that I would not welcome you with open arms?" With that, he pulled her into a strong embrace, his forbidding expression melting into one of relief and affection.

Az dissolved into tears, hugging him tightly. She'd been so afraid that he'd forgotten her, or worse, had somehow heard of her awful deeds. She'd been prepared for condemnation or worse – she was used to it by now, but for it to come from _him_…

"_Abu_," she whispered, completely overcome.

The sheikh tilted her chin up and Az was amazed to see that tears glimmered in his eyes as well. "I am happy to see my Aesha is alive and well…and free." He hugged her close once more.

"Is that-"

"That is Sheikh Jaasir Abd al Ati, the chief of the Red Fox tribe," Ahmet answered. "He will be your host, for he will not hear of the ma'at and her party staying anywhere else."

The younger Cain was still astounded by Az's display of emotion. For an instant, it was like seeing a girl running into the arms of her father. It was so stunningly real that a witch couldn't have done it. There was much to say about the sheikh's reaction as well – so far, the Vedu struck him as hard people to fool. A man like the sheikh would not be taken in by the witch's machinations. There was much to think about. "What was that gesture she made when she reached for his feet?"

"Among the Tribes, it is customary for children to touch the feet of their elders in greeting. It is a sign of respect."

Sheikh Jaasir looked closely at Az, his sharp eyes missing nothing. The little girl who had so desperately tried to be an adult had grown up, but not without consequences. Years ago, she had blazed with vitality and life: her light now flickered like a candle in the wind. "We have much to talk about, child, but first I would meet your companions."

Az wiped at her eyes. "Of course." She motioned for the three to come over. "Sheikh Jaasir Abd al Ati, I present to you Sir Ambrose, though he prefers to be called Glitch nowadays."

Sheikh Jaasir looked at him critically. Yes, he remembered this man, though the years had wrought their own transformation on him as well. "You have changed much, Sir Glitch."

"And you haven't changed at all, Jaasir-_son_," Glitch said with a jaunty bow. "I think." He scratched his head, wondering at the honorific that had suddenly jumped into his mind.

"This is Ambassador Raw, a Viewer."

Raw bowed deeply. "Honor to meet man Azkadee love so." The sheikh smiled, pleased. If he'd never met a Viewer before, he showed no sign of it.

"And this is Commander Jeb Cain of the Queen's Riders." Jeb bowed just as deeply as Raw.

"It is an honor to meet you, Sheikh Abd al Ati. We are thankful for your hospitality." His tone was polite and deferential.

"We are pleased to have you," the sheikh began, only to be butted in the back by Freeheart. "Oh-ho, look at this one!" he exclaimed in Vedu. "What a fine stallion you have grown up to be! You do your ancestors proud." He glanced at the group of Outlanders. "Come, you have had a long journey. We will have tea in the _attar_."

* * *

**Please review! :)**

_ati - _beloved

_abu - _father

As you can see, I've gone back and added some music to accompany your reading...this is what happens when one of your best friends is a former music major and all-music geek who inundates you with...well, music. I'm developing a soundtrack of sorts for the story, because I find that the right piece adds a certain type of atmosphere to the story.

The Red Rocks is based on Sedona, AZ. It is one of the most beautiful places in the world, in my opinion. I had the opportunity to take an off-roading adventure around the valley the last time I was there, and the sunset was beyond words. Even though I tend to like my places a bit greener, it's still absolutely breathtaking and I knew that I had to find a place for it in this story. You can probably say that the entire Vedu arc was spawned by a need for horses and my desire to write about Sedona. :D

By the way, MatsuMama is the best beta ever. Just thought I'd put it out there. :) Show her stories some love, she's one of the most talented writers on the site!


	6. Confrontations and Confessions

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: "Venus, the Bringer of Peace" from Gustav Holst's _The Planets _for the first half, and Cirque du Soleil's "Jeux d'Eau" (from _O_) for the second half.

* * *

Jeb lay awake that night, his mind still processing everything that transpired that day. He was still reserving judgment on the Vedu - he was sure they were doing the same for his motley crew. Even after so short a time with them, he knew they were a formidable people, but he found he could understand and even come to like them. He respected anyone with a code of honor as rigid as theirs, as Wyatt Cain had passed down a set of ironclad morals to him.

Inside Sheikh Jaasir's massive scarlet _attar_ he, Azkadellia, Glitch, and Raw were served a sweet mint tea that was surprisingly refreshing. Azkadellia and Glitch told the annotated version of DG's return to the O.Z. and the defeat of the witch to the sheikh and several of his advisors while Jeb and Raw remained silent, jumping in when prompted. Azkadellia had told him during the ride that the Vedu considered it rude to talk of business right away. They would have to settle in first.

During the retelling of the story, Jeb noticed that the sheikh would exchange significant glances with his men at certain times, particularly regarding Azkadellia's own involvement. It puzzled him, for he would have expected to see doubt, suspicion, or downright hatred. All he could get was a general sense of…relief? He would have to ask Raw later. Other than that, he could not read the sheikh or his men: their expressions were as still and calm as a mountain lake. He admired their control.

Dinner had been an experience. They were seated at a long, low table, sitting on soft, flat cushions. They dined with the same men as before – Sheikh Jaasir said that he would wait to subject them to his family. Jeb thought he detected a glint of humor in his eyes. More tea was served, and the men were offered small clay cups of clear liquor that burned down the throat like flames. It did not help that the food was red and spicy, served with flatbread and eaten with one's hands. Glitch and the princess devoured the food eagerly, while he and Raw struggled to keep their mouths from catching fire. Despite the heat, he enjoyed the meal – it was much more flavorful than the fare he was used to.

After dinner they were shown to their "rooms" – cordoned-off sections of the _attar_. The curtains were made of thick, heavy fabric that did an admirable job of muffling sound and keeping out the cool night air of the desert. Inside each little room was a thick pallet covered with fluffy pillows and an assortment of blankets. Glitch slept to his right, Raw to his left, and Azkadellia in front of him.

Speaking of the princess – he sat up, frowning. Was she whimpering? He heard the heavy _swish _of a curtain being pushed aside, followed by the soft patter of her feet as she made her way out of the tent.

Now he had a decision to make. Every instinct he had screamed to follow after her and make sure that she wasn't up to any mischief. Vedu magic, from what he'd seen, was formidable. But then, hers was, too. Witch or no (and he was still torn between the two), Azkadellia was a powerful sorceress and that alone gave him reason to be wary. For all of his close observation, what could he do in the face of her magic? He'd heard the stories about how she could rip a man's soul from his body and had seen the effects of her special brand of torture too many times to count.

Part of him just wanted to stay in the tent and wash his hands of the entire situation. Being away from the O.Z., even if it was on business, was liberating. Part of him wondered what would happen if he never returned at all. He'd been thrown into war too young and grown up too fast. He had been thrown into a leadership role almost from the very beginning – he supposed the apple really didn't fall too far from the tree. But Jeb was sure that even Wyatt Cain would not have chosen the harsh and jaded life of a soldier for his only son. Of all the witch's crimes, that was her greatest: twisting lives until they were shadows and ruins of what could have been.

It was tempting to envy the Vedu and their isolation. They had been beyond her reach, and thus had not been broken beyond repair. That kind of freedom was tantalizing and seductive…

Jeb muffled a curse. The desert was getting to him. Disillusionment or not, he was a servant of the Outer Zone and he would be damned if he saw it fall back to the way it was. It was not beyond repair because there were still people who were willing to work hard and hope for a better future.

Furthermore, if the princess was up to something, it was his _duty _to investigate and handle the matter. He got to his feet soundlessly.

He tracked her outside to a small spring that was reserved for the sheikh's use only. All wells and springs were fed by a large underground aquifer, Ahmet told him earlier. The aquifer was what gave life to the Red Rocks and thus the Red Fox tribe.

In the moonlight, Azkadellia knelt at the water's edge, her dark hair a striking contrast to her pale skin and white nightgown. As Jeb prowled closer, his ears pricked. Was she talking to herself?

"Not here too," she seemed to be begging. "I told you, you have no power over me. Leave me alone!" Turning her face from her reflection, she wrapped her arms around herself, weeping softly.

A muscle in his jaw twitched. Who the hell was she talking to? The witch? Was she _still_ the witch, as he'd been inclined to believe? He didn't think – he strode forward and seized her shoulders in an iron grip. "What the hell are you doing?" he demanded.

Violet eyes flew up to him and looked through him, moonlit and full of tears. "I still hear her voice," Az whimpered. "Oh gods, please make it stop!" She hurled herself at him, dampening his linen shirt with her tears, the fabric bunching between curled fingers.

Jeb stiffened. She heard the witch's voice? For a moment, he almost shoved her away, thinking it was a ploy to lower his defenses. Heaven knew that most men could not resist a crying woman. His fingers tensed on her shoulders, ready to push.

But something stopped him. He saw her, flying into the sheikh's arms with genuine emotion on her face. He saw her walking around the camp each night, putting up a barrier that would keep all of them safe. He saw how she sat quietly through her watch, taking the time to write letters to her family. These things did not match the image that had built up in his mind about the sorceress he'd fought against for so long.

It certainly didn't match the image of her now, shuddering against him. It was familiar enough – the Longcoats had tortured many of his fighters. _He'd _been tortured by them too – he still didn't like enclosed spaces thanks to the tin suit. The trauma of such an experience manifested in different ways, but nightmares, hallucinations, and the shakes were common enough. Post-traumatic stress disorder, DG called it. He doubted that the witch was that good of an actress, not when she could have blasted him where he stood. She had not been known for her subtlety.

With that in mind, Jeb gently peeled her hands from his shirt, catching sight of the delicate, silvery scars that crisscrossed her fingers and palms. All of a sudden, he remembered the day when he asked to form the Riders – her hands had been bandaged. That, perhaps, was the incident that his father had spoken of.

He traced the scars with his fingertips. "How did you get these, Your Highness?"

"I saw her face. My face," she whispered. "I had to break it, but I could still see her, so I tried to break her into more pieces, but I only broke me…" She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, her shoulders heaving.

This statement forced him to take a mental step back to assess the situation. Those certainly weren't the words of a tyrannical witch hell-bent on the destruction of the O.Z. They were the words of a scared girl, which was what she was acting like despite the fact that she was a few years his senior. She looked him in the eyes as she spoke – usually an unremarkable fact, though his experience taught him that most liars would have tried to look away, lest anything be revealed.

Later on, Jeb would look back on that moment and marvel at the sheer improbability of his actions. He followed his instincts and took her back in his arms, rocking her back and forth while she cried. He recognized the look and feel of her emotions. Azkadellia was broken inside, a state that he knew all too well and was surprised to find in her. When her shuddering finally stopped, he realized she'd fallen asleep. With a resigned sigh, he stood, still cradling her in his arms. He was startled at how frail she was. He could have easily snapped her in two – hard to believe, since she'd exhibited such strength on the ride over.

To his eternal embarrassment, Raw was waiting by the entrance of the _attar_, holding the flap open. "Jeb do good thing for Azkadee," he observed as he followed them inside.

"Was nothing," Jeb grunted, ducking into her little room. He laid her down gently on the pallet and stood, stopping for just a moment to stare at her face. It was as though he'd never really seen her before. He turned, only to encounter Raw's curious, knowing stare. "I'll, uh, let you tuck her in, Raw." With that, he left.

Suppressing an amused rumble, Raw pulled the blankets around Az as gently as any mother would. "Two broken pieces," he said thoughtfully. "Maybe fit together, make one whole." With a satisfied nod, he returned to his own room.

* * *

_ Az peered from behind the trunk of her favorite palm. The name of Rajah's stallion, she had learned, was Firesong. It was one of the most beautiful names she'd ever heard; it certainly befitted that magnificent horse. Oh, how she wished-_

_ "What have we here, a spy?"_

_ She whirled around, her face reddening with guilt. How could she have thought that getting caught would be a good thing? Her eyes opened wide when she saw just who had caught her. Her hands flew to her shoulders as she bowed deep. "Forgive me, Sheikh Abd al Ati!" she said in perfectly passable Vedu. "I mean no harm truly! I was not spying!"_

_ The sheikh scowled down at her and she gulped. Jaasir Abd al Ati was truly a formidable man. He had a deep, heavy presence that spoke of immense power, visibly bending the air around them – and that was just the force of his magic. He was tall and powerfully built, with forbidding eyes as deep as the night sky and a perpetual frown upon his face._

_ Even as Az stared him down, the sheikh returned her observation in kind. She had the bearing of royalty, this young ma'at. She was a tall, gangly thing, all angles and long lines, like a skittish colt._

_ But unlike a skittish colt, she did not seem to fear him. Her posture spoke of guilt, not terror. Her posture was straight and her chin high as she stared him in the eye. Yes, this young ma'at was certainly not afraid, which was a revelation in and of itself. He seemed to scare many people lately. Even the Outlander Queen was somewhat perturbed by his presence. "You speak our language well, little one," he said finally. "Better than most of the adults in your envoy."_

_ Az bowed again. "My thanks, Sheikh Abd al Ati." Without meaning to, her eyes strayed to the horses once more. "I was just watching them," she explained. "I love horses."_

_ "And what do you think of ours?"_

_ "They are so beautiful!" she burst out, clutching her hands together. "They are so intelligent and full of life! When they run, it's like they are galloping on the wind. When you look at them, you just know that they have hearts and souls." Her rare violet eyes sparkled earnestly, begging him to believe her._

_ "They do, it is true," he murmured. There was something, _something _in this young Outlander's face and voice that spoke to him, a combination of honesty and insight that penetrated years of indifference._

_ Az looked curiously at the sheikh. Sir Ambrose had told her that the sheikh had suffered a terrible loss a few years back and that his grief had stopped him from doing anything beyond his immediate duty as the head of the Red Fox Tribe. He'd been downright obstinate during the diplomatic talks, even when his advisors argued for some sort of alliance. His willfulness was legendary._

_ But all she saw was a man desperate to overcome his sorrow, though he was terrified of letting those he lost go. She saw and understood all of this in scant seconds, despite her age. "Will you tell me about your horses, Sheikh Abd al Ati?" she asked tentatively._

_ The sheikh looked down at the ma'at in shock. Her expression was so sincere, so thoughtful. "Come," he said, surprising him and her. "Let us sit, and I will tell you how Sheba rode out of the east on Iftekhar and gave the Tribes purpose…"

* * *

_

Az woke the next morning feeling more refreshed that she ever had before. She stretched lazily, yawning as she pulled her hands high over her head. What had happened? Memories came back to her in flashes of insight and hazy dreams, as though she were scrying for them in a looking glass. It was as though the desert was reminding her that she was now in one of the few places where she truly felt safe and happy.

Despite all that reassurance, she frowned. Even with the return to the desert, the witch's voice had caught up with her last night. When they traveled, she'd deliberately gone on so little sleep that the few hours of sleep she did have were deep and mostly untroubled by dreams or voices. But she heard her again last night, her voice mocking.

_Did you really think you could escape me, princess?_

The taunts had driven her out into the night in a desperate attempt to escape.

Then Jeb – Commander Cain – had found her. He would have had every right to denounce her, she thought. Her words had been damning, especially to the ears of someone who thought she could still be possessed. Someone who thought she had never been possessed, but an evil sorceress all along. And because of how helpless she felt at the time, she would have let him say or do anything.

But he did no such thing. Instead, he'd taken her in his arms and _comforted _her. Az's hands flew to her burning cheeks in a hopeless attempt to cool them. His behavior had been so unlike him, but she couldn't regret it. He had been strong and sure, a pillar of strength to lean upon. She'd taken everything he offered, and gratefully. Then – her face flamed even more – she must have fallen asleep, exhausted from the tears. And he'd carried her back.

"Oh, how mortifying," she mumbled, burying her face in her hands. Where was DG when she needed her?

The curtain rustled open and a girl – she had to be in her early teens – stepped in, stopping short when she saw that Az was awake. "Good morning, ma'at," she murmured politely, inclining her head. "Jaasir-_son_ said you would be much more comfortable if you wore this." She handed her a bundle and left, touching her hands to her shoulders in the Vedu version of a bow.

"Thank you," Az said in Vedu, smiling as she opened the bundle. She knew exactly what was there – a shirt with puffy sleeves, a long embroidered tunic, and leggings in strong, white, lightweight fabric. Bindings were included for the wrist and ankles to stop the seeking sand from getting beneath the cloth, as well as soft calfskin boots and a white headscarf. A sash the color of violets completed the outfit.

She loved Vedu clothes. If a woman rode often, it made sense for her to wear the same leggings that men did. It was not taboo for women to wears men's clothes – not like the O.Z., where conservatives were still fussing about DG's penchant for pants. Vedu clothes were comfortable and practical, designed for desert living and riding. She dressed quickly, her hands remembering how to wrap and tie the sash over the tunic. She pulled her hair into a ponytail and left her room, headscarf in hand.

Az stopped in the "hallway," amused to see that the men were already up and similarly accoutered. Glitch apparently remembered how to dress, because his emerald-green sash was perfectly tied as he helped Raw with his mahogany brown sash. Ahmet was helping Jeb tie his own sash, one that was as vividly blue as the desert sky.

"When we ride in the desert, everyone is essentially wearing white," the young Vedu explained. "We are all wearing headscarves as well, so identification is impossible. However, everyone's sash is a different color, so if one knows the color of another's sash and can see the way it's tied, one can easily identify the other."

"But colors can be very similar," Jeb pointed out.

Ahmet laughed. "In a landscape such as this, the eye is very sensitive to even the most minute change in color. I'm sure it would be different if we lived in a place that is as verdantly green as your Outer Zone. Besides, the women who dye sashes are very, very good. I should know – my mother is one of them." He glanced up and saw Az. "Ma'at, good morning. Jaasir-_son _is expecting us all for the morning meal."

"Good morning," she said pleasantly, smiling at each man in turn – though her smile for Jeb was decidedly wobbly. Ahmet offered her his arm and led them back to the dining room, where the sheikh and his advisors were waiting, along with fresh fruit, honey pastries studded with nuts, and thin, sweet flatbread.

"I see our clothing suits you very well," Sheikh Jaasir noted, his eyes twinkling.

"Thank you, Jaasir-_son_!" Glitch said cheerfully, sitting gracefully. "I think our clothes would have been wholly unsuitable for this climate."

"And for riding. Ahmet will take you on a tour of the Red Rocks today." His eyes twinkled. "On our horses, of course. Though your Quoxians are steady beasts, they are not well suited to mountain paths. You'll take Cloudrunners – does that suit you?"

"It does, thank you Jaasir-_son_." Jeb's eyes sparkled at the thought of riding a Vedu horse so soon.

"I thank you for bringing up the subject of Cloudrunners, _abu_, for that is why we have come." Az glanced at Jeb. "If we may speak?"

The sheikh waved a hand, looking mildly interested. Az nodded at Jeb, who leaned forward and began outlining his plan for the Riders and how the Cloudrunners fit into the grand scheme of the whole thing.

When he finished, the sheikh barely looked at his advisors. "Wonderful!" he boomed. "The Black Lizard tribe has benefited greatly from their dealings with Fliaan over the Cloudrunners. It has been my hope that we could come to a similar arrangement with the O.Z. It was not possible in the past for they requested the use of our Windrunners; something that we of the Tribes are not permitted to do. But the Cloudrunners…" His face split in a wide grin that displayed dazzlingly white teeth. "I think they will do well for your Riders."

Jeb inclined his head, relieved. "Thank you, Jaasir-son."

"You must wait, though. I'm sure you've noticed that our camp is almost empty of horses at the moment except for those retained for personal use."

"I have," Az said.

The sheikh nodded, his eyes creasing in affection. "Clever girl. "

"Where are the horses, Jaasir-_son_?" Glitch asked curiously, carefully peeling a piece of fruit.

"They are returning from Yalequah as we speak, back from the annual horse-fairs. My son, Rajah, leads them."

Az sat up straight. "Rajah?" To Jeb, Raw, and Glitch's amazement, her cheeks went slightly red. "Rajah is coming?"

"Indeed he is," the sheikh chuckled. "It has always been the job of the heir to take the tribe's horses to Yalequah. I did the same for many seasons before him, as his son Tahir will do many seasons after him."

As quickly as the red appeared, it disappeared, washed away by a flood of white. "Son?" she whispered.

The advisors stood and left the room silently. Ahmet rose quickly. "Come," he said to the other three men. "If you are to ride Vedu horses this afternoon, you must first learn _how _to ride a horse of the Tribes." They all filed out, but not without giving Az quizzical glances.

Sheikh Jaasir sighed heavily and took Az's hand. "I know you admired my son greatly, Aesha. Be assured that he held the same high regard for you. You were too young to know, but once upon a time your mother and I had hoped that a strong alliance would come with your union."

"You wanted us to be married," she whispered in Vedu.

"I do not think you would have opposed it," he teased lightly.

She flushed and looked at her hands. "No, I do not think I would have," she admitted. Rajah Abd al Ati was the closest thing she'd had to a first love. Certainly her memories of _him_ contributed to the idyllic time she'd spent at Red Rocks.

"We were saddened when the plan fell through," the sheikh continued. "By the time it was imperative that Rajah be married, you…" He trailed off, uncomfortable.

"I had killed my sister? Overthrown my mother? Exiled my father?" she finished, her lips twisting bitterly.

A shadow crossed the sheikh's eyes and Az cringed. "So you knew," she said, horrified. Panic began to bubble through her veins as icy-cold fingers of fear wrapped tightly around her throat. "You know what I have done."

"What is it that you have done, Aesha?" His gaze was frighteningly opaque.

"I do not know, _abu_."

"I will tell you what I do know, Aesha. A year after your visit to the Red Rocks, your mother ceased all communication and diplomatic proceedings with this tribe. There was no reason given. After a few years the refugees came, bearing strange rumors." He sighed. "We could not allow all of them passage through our borders and into Fliaan – many of them we turned back."

"What did you hear, _abu_?" she asked, dreading the answer.

"Unsettling things. My shamans also saw strange things in the dream waters, and they cast many protective spells. And the day the suns stood still…" He raised his hands helplessly.

"She never looked here," Az murmured. "All she thought about was plunging the world into darkness, though with enough time she might have tried to conquer the Vedu. She coveted Freeheart, so she would have loved an army of Longcoats astride Windrunners." She shuddered at the image.

"Who is she, Aesha?" His voice was low and gentle.

"She? Sometimes I wonder if it was me." She took a deep breath and told him the full story – all of the little bits that had been left out yesterday's story, for they had glossed over her role as the witch's host. She looked up when she finished, tears standing still in her eyes. "Why did you let me over the border if you had heard all these rumors? Surely those refugees would have mentioned me by name. How could you accept me back?"

Sheikh Jaasir was silent for a good long while, obviously measuring his words carefully. "Aesha, do you know why I have oftentimes called you _sha'at sheba_?"

"Because I come from the east, like Sheba?"

He chuckled. "That is only part of it. Sometimes it means 'purity of the soul.' I saw that in you from our first meeting, Aesha, and I still see it now." He looked at her sharply. "Freeheart would not have come to you if that was not the case."

Ah. The mystery was solved. "I had wondered…how did you get him to come to me?"

"I set him with a geas to find you. Aesha, when exactly did he come to you?"

"When the witch was gone," she said eventually, remembering that wonderful day when she'd been approached by the most beautiful horse she'd ever seen.

"Then how can you not believe?"

"I have struggled with her for a long time," Az said quietly. "It will take a lot for me to believe that she is truly gone, and I honestly do not see that happening in the near future."

"You need to trust in yourself," he said gently. "And trust others to help you."

"Trust in myself? How can I do that, _abu_? I _cannot_ trust myself – so how can I expect others to help me when _they _have no trust in me either? They have reason not to!"

"Aesha, there is no one in this camp who does not trust you. Does that not say something?"

"Not everyone," she mumbled.

"Hmmm?" He raised an eyebrow. "I trust you mean young Commander Cain?"

She rolled her eyes miserably. "He is not even a half of it."

"I think you would be surprised. The desert is good at revealing a person for who they are. You should give him a chance to see the Aesha I know and love, the Aesha who mended the heart of a broken man."

Her face softened. "You were hardly broken, _abu_."

"I was, my dear Aesha. You gave me purpose again." He sighed and pulled her into his arms. "How I would have loved to have you as a daughter."

"Rajah really is married, huh?" she asked, wrapping her arms around him.

"Indeed. You would like Amirah, I think. The desert runs true through her, for she is as fiery and strong and changeless as the sands."

"It sounds like she keeps Rajah on his toes." She smiled. The Rajah she remembered was a solemn, serious lad of seventeen.

"She does. You should ask her to tell you of their courtship when she arrives with him." He looked down at her. "I think you would like having another friend."

Az smiled half-heartedly. "I would."

"Come." He got to his feet and offered a hand. "I should like to see how your three companions are adjusting to riding as we do. It should be quite entertaining."

Her laugh was slight, but it was good enough for him.

* * *

**Please review! :)**

_son_ - Vedu honorific used when addressing a sheikh

Well, we've got the makings of a revelation for Jeb, which is probably a relief for those of you who've been frustrated with him so far. I hope this gives a little insight into what he's thinking, and some of his feelings towards Azkadellia in regards to the witch. This doesn't mean everything's resolved, though. There's plenty of angst to come! There are also some answers regarding Freeheart and Sheikh Jaasir's involvement, but more will be revealed in the following chapters.


	7. Interlude: Freeheart

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: "Every Girl, A Slayer" ("Chosen") from the Buffy soundtrack

* * *

_It was hard to say how much intelligence there was to be had in a Vedu horse. Certainly they were smarter than any other horse breed in this strange land, but few knew the full extent of their mental capacity. Even the Vedu, their partners, protectors, and breeders, rarely knew. It was knowledge that was shared between the horses and Sheba alone._

_ The young black stallion knew much. It knew that it had been given a purpose. It knew the geas that drove it across desert, grassland, mountain, and forest to seek the one who had been made a Daughter of the Tribes._

_ But the stallion also had a will of its own. It smelled the evil that blanketed its true partner and balked. The descendants of Iftekhar were not carriers of darkness, geas or not. So it drew back and waited. It would bide its time until the princess was freed and they could ride together, their hearts unfettered._

_ So it waited. The geas that had driven it thus far would also protect it until it was delivered safely into her hands. It could take care of itself in the meantime, foraging for food and hiding itself in the wilderness that bordered the cold iron tower that was yet another prison to its partner._

_ The stallion waited, even as the princess took another horse to ride, a lesser black stallion, a poor substitute for her true partner._

_ But then the day came when the two suns froze but the darkness did not fall, and the stallion knew its time was very near. It watched as the cold tower fell and the family reunited made its way north, to the palace that was no longer encased in ice._

_ It was then that when the princess came outside, her soul pure yet burdened, that the stallion emerged to claim its rider._


	8. An Accord, or Something Like It

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: "Garraí Na Bhfeileoig" (Dance of the Celts), "Anne is Arrested" (The Tudors, Season Two), and "The Door in the Air" (Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian)

* * *

"I don't _like _this!" Jeb not-quite-shouted from the back of a leopard-spotted stallion. "You're telling me that I'm supposed to control this horse-"

"Strongwind," Ahmet said mildly.

"-Strongwind by _changing my grip on his sides_?"

"Yup, grip tighter or looser with your legs," Glitch offered helpfully as he rode by. His horse was a frisky mare with a varnish roan coat named Stormrider.

"I'm not talking to you," Jeb muttered. "How is it that you've already got the hang of this?"

"I think I've done this before!"

"Indeed he has!" Sheikh Jaasir and Az approached: Az was riding Freeheart and the sheikh rode his own stallion, a Windrunner that was a deeper shade of bay than Ahmet's Redmoon. "Sir Glitch rides as naturally as any Vedu, much like our Aesha." As Raw cantered by on a dapple-gray mare, he added, "And apparently Sir Raw as well."

"Moonfire happy," was Raw's explanation.

"Hey Raw, do you want to empathically communicate with Strongwind and get him to go somewhere? No?" Jeb looked extremely unhappy. He was not accustomed to looking like a fool, or not getting something right on the first try. "Let me guess – all of the Riders will have to learn to ride like this?"

"Our horses have never been trained to bit and bridle. To do so would break their spirit," Ahmet said, suppressing a smile. His new friend had to learn what it was to be humble, for it was a humbling experience to ride a horse of the Tribes, even for those who rode them every day.

"Think about it this way!" Glitch called as he trotted Stormrider in circles around Jeb and Strongwind. "At least most of your trainees won't have much to unlearn!"

"Or it means that I have a lot to unlearn," the blond muttered. He sighed, shifting in the saddle. "All right, I'll try this." He tightened his legs around Strongwind's sides. "Yah!" And suddenly the stallion was off, scattering people left and right as he thundered through the camp.

"Uh-oh," Az said, and urged Freeheart after him. "Commander Cain, you have to sit down harder in the saddle to get him to stop! I think you nudged him a little too hard!" she yelled as she caught up.

"You're telling me I have to stop this horse at a full gallop by sitting down harder? I don't even have stirrups to give me leverage!" he shouted back.

"Just shift your weight!"

He gritted his teeth. Of all the ignoble ends, he couldn't have imagined this. He briefly wondered what his father would think, before he remembered that Wyatt Cain had never ridden a Vedu horse. Grabbing the shortened saddle horn, he _shoved _his weight down. Strongwind slowed until he came to a stop, snorting as if to say "Well, you _finally _got it."

Az came to a halt beside him. "Are you all right, Commander Cain?"

"Only my pride is hurt." He glared down at Strongwind's neck. "I'm going to have to train like hell before we get these horses back to the O.Z., that's for sure."

"You'll be fine," she assured him. "At least you know what to expect from now on."

"Uh-huh." He looked up and seemed to register her presence for the first time. Coughing uncomfortably, he glanced off into the distance. "Are you all right now, Your Highness?"

Az turned scarlet and was grateful for the headscarf. "I am, thank you, Commander Cain. It was…kind of you to comfort me last night. You didn't have to-"

"It was nothing." He paused for a moment. There were still too many questions that needed answering. "What was-"

Galloping hoof beats cut him off. "Ah, I'm glad to see you weren't thrown from your horse, friend!" Ahmet clapped Jeb on the back, his eyes twinkling.

Jeb scowled, all tension forgotten. "I managed to stop Strongwind just fine, Ahmet."

"Come." Sheikh Jaasir appeared, Raw and Glitch behind him. "Now that Commander Cain has learned the basics, we can begin the tour."

"Are you coming with us, _abu?_" Az asked in surprise. "I thought you said you-"

"Indulge an old man, Aesha," the sheikh said with a grin. "Besides, I think Sunfire would like the exercise as much as I."

* * *

Waking dreams haunted her that night, and the night after that, as if the joy of her waking hours with the Vedu drove the witch to ever greater works of torment. The cloth walls of her room were too small, too suffocating. The witch's voice seemed to fill the entire space until she could no longer bear it, fleeing out into the night.

_Don't be so naïve, princess. You're not rid of me so easily_.

Somehow, Jeb would always find her at the water's edge. The first two nights he said nothing, merely holding her until she was asleep or calm enough to go back to her room. One night, he was simply there, waiting for her. That night, he spoke.

"Talk to me."

Az glanced up, her tense posture belying her wariness. It was not that she did not appreciate his unexpected help, but he'd seen more of the weak side of her in the past few days than anyone, even her family, had seen in the past few months. "What?"

"The reason you have these nightmares is because you won't talk to anyone about them. You're increasing the burden on yourself and your mind can't take it." _He _couldn't quite take it any more, to be honest. His patience was stretched to its limits. He had gone for nights without any answers. From the very moment he'd left the Northern Palace he'd been in a state of limbo, not quite knowing what was going on around him. It was disconcerting and irritating all at once, and it was all because of _her_.

"I've bothered everyone enough with her," she said quietly, briefly wondering why he sounded so knowledgeable about her state of mind. "She's _my _load to bear. She's gone – that's enough for everyone."

"Obviously you don't think so," he pointed out. She reminded him of a doe, ready to bolt at any moment. The question was whether or not he should handle her with kid gloves.

"Neither do you," Az shot back, wondering why he was needling her. She was beginning to resent the fact that she'd exposed so much of herself to him when he obviously had misgivings concerning her character. "Don't deny it, Commander Cain. You haven't trusted me from the beginning, and you've had your own reasons for believing it."

Jeb was somewhat surprised by the sudden turnaround in the princess' attitude, but he rather enjoyed seeing this side of her that was all spine and fire. It suited her better than the retiring, mousy image she'd been projecting. "Maybe I don't believe it anymore."

Her head whipped around. "You-you don't?" Her voice betrayed an amount of incredulity mixed with skepticism.

Did he? Jeb asked himself. He could hardly believe that he'd been out here the past few nights comforting her. Something drove him out there, a sort of restlessness that was appeased when he helped her. Part of him truly wanted to believe that the witch was gone from her, that she had never _been_ the witch. Surely, the evidence was right there in front of him. She was either the most spectacular actress in the O.Z. or truly innocent.

However, there was a part of him that would always be a rebel leader, wary and ever alert. It was hard to let of such instincts, especially when they served him so well. It was harder still to let go of the ideals that had forged them in the first place. _She _had been the enemy, and his ultimate goal had been her destruction.

Oddly enough, destruction was one of the furthest things from his mind. The woman in front of him seemed so incredibly fragile. He could reach out and snap her neck, if he so pleased. A year ago, he wouldn't have hesitated to do so. Now, there was an overwhelming urge to _protect _her. The turnabout was so incredibly absurd. A week ago, he would have accused her of putting a spell on him. Now, he wasn't so sure that she would do such a thing. Where _that _assurance came from, he had no idea.

"I want to," he said finally. He wouldn't lie. "And I very well might."

"I see." Az nodded, trying her best to keep her expression neutral, though her eyes narrowed in speculation. "You're not saying this out of pity, are you Commander Cain?" She'd kept her pain from her family with good reason. Pity, she thought, was useless. It could neither change what had happened, nor could it alleviate her current situation. It was much simpler to leave everyone in the dark. She was enough of a burden as it was.

Jeb looked mildly surprised. "Why should I pity you? Pity is for the weak and helpless and…" he trailed off. "You are neither, Your Highness."

"Ah…thank you, Commander Cain." Az decided to keep her own counsel on this peculiar change in events. There was a slight possibility that he was pandering to her, though she was beginning to doubt that. Words could be empty, but Jeb did not strike her as the type to use them to those ends. Still, he _could _trust her; he _wanted _to trust her. The fact that he _could _change the way he felt was more than she could have expected.

"How about you tell me the whole story?" Jeb spoke up suddenly. He was suddenly weary of their guessing game. He just wanted the truth.

"Whole story?" she echoed.

"The witch. How it all happened in the first place."

"Hasn't your father already told you?"

"He has," he agreed. "But I want to hear it from you."

"It's a long story."

Jeb shrugged. "We've got time."

She managed to get as far as the cave before the lack of sleep caught up with her. Jeb noticed her drooping eyelids and the way her voice trailed off. "All right, Princess. Off to bed." He scooped her up.

"No, put me down." Az yawned, too sleepy to be embarrassed. Despite the earlier tension, there was a part of her that delighted in being treated like this. "I…can walk."

"Sure you can," Jeb said agreeably as he ducked back into the _attar_. By the time he got her back to her room, she was asleep, snuggled trustingly against him. He tucked her in and simply knelt beside her pallet, staring at her face.

"How do I get myself into these things?" he muttered, running a hand through blond curls. Az barely stirred, slipping deeper into dreams.

* * *

_ The change in Sheikh Jaasir over the next few weeks was staggering. The Red Fox tribe watched in amazement as their beloved leader slowly came back to life with the help of the young Outlander princess. In her he had found a kindred spirit, a daughter to replace the one he'd lost. He spent hours at a time in her company, telling her of the Vedu as she told him of life in the Outer Zone._

_ And he taught her how to ride the way the Vedu did. Az proved herself to be a natural and was riding as well as any Vedu within days. She bonded with a leopard-spotted mare named Dawnsong and joined the sheikh on rides all over the Red Rocks._

_ At first, their closeness was cause for some fear and suspicion. Had the Outlander Queen charged her daughter with bewitching their leader in order to make him more receptive to their proposals? Outlander magic was an unknown factor._

_ But the sheikh's shamans quickly put that fear to rest, declaring that there was no coercion between the sheikh and the young ma'at – simply love, the love of a father and a daughter. No one championed this more than Rajah, who was ecstatic to have his father back. As far as he was concerned, he owed a great debt to Azkadellia. It was she who had encouraged him to join her daily chats with his father. He had a family once more._

_ "What does your name mean, ma'at?" Rajah asked as he rode through the canyon with Az and his father._

_ Az shrugged. "Honestly, I don't know. My mother is rather eccentric when it comes to names. My sister's name is DG – just those two letters, even though they stand for our most famous ancestor."_

_ "Indeed, your name is a mouthful," the sheikh mused. There were many Vedu who still had trouble with her name, simply preferring to call her ma'at. "Sha'at sheba, I will give you a name of the Tribes," he decided._

_ Rajah raised an eyebrow. It was a father's right and a father's right alone to name a child. That was the tradition and law of the Tribes. If she were to accept the name the sheikh gave her, she was also accepting the right to be Vedu in spirit, a true Daughter of the Tribes. No Outlander had been bestowed this honor in many years._

_ Az looked intrigued. "All right."_

_ Rajah mulled over telling her of the significance of this event, then shrugged. There was no harm in being named a Daughter of the Tribes. It would certainly raise her in the eyes of the tribe and make things easier for the Outlander envoy._

_ Sheikh Jaasir was deep in thought. "Aesha," he said finally. "She who lives."_

_ "That's beautiful," Az said, beaming. "I love it."_

_ "Aesha it is then," Rajah said, smiling. "Welcome to the Tribes, sister."

* * *

_

The next morning, the party from the O.Z. awoke to find the camp in an uproar. Servants were hurrying back and forth in the _attar_, arms loaded with linen, pillows, food, and other paraphernalia.

"What's going on?" Jeb yelled, dodging out of the way as a maid scurried by with an armload of brightly woven blankets.

"I have no idea!" Glitch yelled back, gracefully weaving in and out of the frenzy while Raw pressed himself against the "wall."

Az pushed aside the curtain to her room. "What's all the racket?" she inquired sleepily, winding the headscarf about her head.

"There you are!" Ahmet appeared out of nowhere. "Come with me – the servants are preparing the _attar _and you'll only be in their way." He thrust small cloth packages at the four as they made their way out.

"Oh good, breakfast!" Glitch chirped, sinking his teeth into a sweet pastry studded with nuts and fruit.

"What's happening?" Az queried, lengthening her strides to keep up with the taller man. The last vestiges of sleep were gradually clearing from her eyes.

"Rajah-_son_ has returned from Yalequah with his family and the herds," he said with a smile. "Scouts spotted them late last night and Jaasir-_son _has ridden out to meet them. He has requested that you all come along as well."

"The herds?" Jeb asked from Ahmet's other side. He quickly swallowed his breakfast. "That means the horses for the Riders, right?"

"Indeed, you shall have your Cloudrunners." Outside the _attar_, all of their horses were waiting. Before anyone could offer to help her mount up, Az vaulted into the saddle as easily as any Vedu.

"Maybe she's not so fragile," Jeb muttered under his breath, slightly awed. Strongwind flicked an ear back at him and snorted. "I'm not talking to you," he said with a scowl. "Try to behave today, all right?" Over the past two days, he'd come to a rough sort of understanding with his leopard-spotted stallion. Strongwind was stubborn as all hell, but he was more intelligent than any horse he'd ever ridden. He had a healthy respect for him.

Raw, in the meantime, had somehow gotten Moonfire to kneel for him. She got to her feet in one fluid motion, tossing her mane.

"Sir Raw, I am impressed," Ahmet said, trotting Redmoon around him. "Even with our training and their intelligence, it is very hard to get the horses to kneel. They only do so as they will."

"Not good at jumping," Raw admitted. "Moonfire eager to please."

"That she is," he chuckled. "Shall we move on out?"

As Az urged Freeheart into a gallop, she couldn't help the tremor that raced through her. She was nervous to see Rajah again, she admitted. True, they were both children when they'd last seen each other, but her feelings for him had been so strong, even then.

But he had a wife and child now, she reminded herself, focusing blindly on Freeheart's mane. The past was exactly that – the past. Anything that could have happened was moot point now and she had to accept that. Still, it didn't stop a sort of thrill from going through her heart.

Raw managed to get Moonfire to fall in line with Freeheart. "Azkadee thinking," he announced. "Past. Prince."

She managed a wan smile. "I suppose so, Raw."

"Be friends with Prince," he suggested,

"We always were."

"Not anything more," he continued, turning soulful brown eyes that saw far too much on her. "No more thoughts, Azkadee. Prince not one for you."

"What?" she asked, surprised. That certainly wasn't something she expected the Viewer to say.

Raw wore a complete headscarf after the style of the more conservative Vedu women, for his skin beneath the fur was extremely sensitive. Still, she could see the way his eyes crinkled in a smile. "Azkadee heart for someone else, though Azkadee not know it yet."

"Raw, what are you-" But she had to cut herself off because Glitch and Jeb caught up with them.

"Your Highness, Glitch and I were discussing some things and we would like your opinion." She marveled at how different Jeb looked with his blond hair covered by the masculine version of a headscarf, which consisted of a length of white cloth secured by a leather band about the forehead.

"What would you like to discuss, Commander Cain?"

"We would like to plan a return date to the O.Z. Perhaps in a week's time – I am anxious to get back because the recruits are probably arriving as we speak. I cannot leave it up to Jem – Lieutenant Switzer to orient them and we need to begin training as soon as possible."

"I know you'd like more time with Jaasir-_son_, but we're needed back home, Azkadee," Glitch added from Raw's other side.

"Believe me Glitch, I know," Az said softly. It was true: she would have loved more time in the desert. She was only just starting to feel truly at home again. It was so tempting to lenthen her stay here, where she saw nothing but friendly faces and open regard. But she was beginning to miss her family and the weekly letters were not enough. There was also the simple fact that everyone _was _needed back home. Glitch and Raw were her mother's principal advisors and she and Jeb were needed for the Riders. "Tonight there will be a homecoming celebration for Rajah, so business will have to wait until tomorrow. However, I anticipate that negotiations will not take very long."

"We need to make up travel plans," Jeb said briskly. "Do you think we can be given an escort? We will have forty to fifty horses – too tempting for any bandits or renegade Longcoats to pass up, especially since they're Vedu horses."

"My wards would be sufficient for nightfall, but you're right." Az bit her lip thoughtfully. "I cannot create a glamour for the day – with DG I could, but by myself-"

"It's pretty much impossible," Glitch finished, swatting at a fly. "Don't worry Azkadee, we'll figure it out when we talk shop tomorrow."

Ahead of them, Ahmet gave a shout and urged Redmoon forward.

"I'm guessing he sees them. Come on, what are we waiting for? Race you!" Glitch sent Stormrider into a gallop with Jeb and Strongwind on his heels.

Az looked back at Raw. "Raw, what did you mean?"

He glanced at her. "Raw mean what Raw say. Azkadee heart beat for someone else."

"Who?"

"That is for Azkadee to find out." He graced her with another eye-crinkling smile before sending Moonfire after the others.

"Now what on earth does he mean by that?" she muttered, bewildered. Freeheart blew out a breath impatiently and danced lightly. "All right, all right my heart," she laughed. "Run with your brothers." She tightened her hold on his sides and held on as he sprang forward.

She and Freeheart topped a small dune, stopping beside the others. Even in the bright sunlight, she could pick out her _abu_'s scarlet sash: he was busy embracing another white-clad rider.

"Sweet Oz," Glitch breathed, looking out at the sheer number of horses that were assembled in front of them. They seemed to stretch to the horizon, Windrunners and Cloudrunners alike. The desert had become a vast carpet of every shade from bay to gray and every conceivable pattern from brindle to roan. One could only imagine what the herd would have looked like when it was on the move.

"Damn," Jeb agreed.

"What are you all doing here? Come!" Ahmet came trotting back. "Jaasir-_son _has summoned you." Az swallowed lightly and let Freeheart drift to the back of their little pack. She needed as much time as possible to gather her nerves.

"My friends!" Sheikh Jaasir turned to them with a broad grin as they dismounted. "Come, meet my family."

The tall, white-clad rider beside him raised an eyebrow. "Outlanders?" he murmured in Vedu as he caught sight of their faces. "What have you been up to while I was away, Father?" There was no censure in his deep voice, merely curiosity and a fair amount of wariness.

"Nothing you would disapprove of, my boy. In fact, I daresay the opposite!" the sheikh replied in Standard. "Sir Glitch! Do you remember my son, Rajah? Rajah, I trust that _you _remember him when he went by the name of Sir Ambrose?"

Rajah Abd al Ati looked just as carefully at Glitch as Glitch looked at him. Recognition fluttered over the younger man's face. "How can I forget the man who taught me how to play chess? Sir…Glitch?" He looked at his father questioningly.

Glitch sighed and shook his head. "Forgive me, Rajah-_son_, for I do not remember you as you do me. It is Sir Glitch now, as my head isn't quite the same." He grinned ruefully. "I would be happy to play chess with you again, though!"

The prince's brown eyes were thoughtful as he bowed slightly. "It is quite all right, Sir Glitch. I am happy to make your acquaintance once more, and I accept your offer to play." He was equally cordial with Jeb and Raw, though it was clear that he was not quite sure what to make of the Viewer. Many Vedu didn't, though their trademark serenity and outward stoicism overrode any shock.

Sheikh Jaasir glanced over Raw's shoulder, where Az was more or less trying to disappear into Freeheart's side. "Aesha, why are you hiding?" he boomed. Rajah glanced over curiously as Raw stepped aside, his eyes going wide at the sight of the stallion and its rider.

Az ignored her sweaty palms. "Hello Rajah." She smiled timidly.

"Aesha," he breathed.

A short silence fell over the group as the reunited friends struggled to match images from their memories to the person now standing in front of them. For Az, she could only think that he was just as handsome as she remembered, only more so because of the passing years. Experience and life etched lines of character into the face of the prince, bringing a depth that no mere prettiness could claim. His eyes were still that wonderful shade of rich bronze, warm and welcoming.

Rajah was struggling to reconcile the waif of a girl who'd followed him around the camp to the woman in front of him. Even as a child, the Outlander princess had an ethereal beauty, but he could have never predicted that she would be this beautiful. But with the beauty was a shadow of sadness and pain. Her eyes were pierced with far too much sorrow for one who was still so young, and he saw how all of that seemed to have made her extremely fragile.

"I am glad to see that you are well," she said softly.

"A-and you." He seemed truly off-balance, and Jeb noticed it. He glanced between his princess and the Vedu prince. _Something _was going on, he thought. More secrets. He'd tried asking Ahmet about the exact nature of their relationship, but the young Vedu had demurred and changed the subject very quickly. He hadn't pressed on the subject since, though he was still curious.

The tension in the air disappeared as a tiny hand tugged on Rajah's sash. "_Abu_, what's taking so long? I want to go home!"

Sheikh Jaasir brightened and scooped up the little boy. "Tahir, I want you to say hello to our guests."

The four from the Outer Zone found themselves pinned with a bright, inquisitive black gaze. The child, who was about five years old, took in Jeb, Az, and Glitch's pale skin and Raw's fur. "Are they Outlanders?" he asked in slow Standard.

"Yes, Outlanders and friends."

"We have been traveling for days now, _abu_, and I would like to know if we're going home anytime soon?" A short, slim figure approached from behind, her voice smoky and melodious.

The sheikh grinned and bounced Tahir on his hip, causing the boy to whoop with delight. "Amirah, meet out guests from the Outer Zone."

Amirah Abd al Ati was quite possibly the most beautiful woman Az had ever seen – and that was with just half of her face showing. Her skin was a lovely, liquid gold and long, thick lashes framed her almond-shaped onyx eyes.

Rajah seemed to snap back to reality at the appearance of his wife. "Amirah, this is Sir Glitch, Sir Raw, Commander Cain…" he paused. "And the ma'at Aesha."

Amirah's eyes widened briefly before narrowing in slight speculation. Az did her best not to shift uncomfortably. "It is a pleasure. Welcome."

"Come!" the sheikh boomed. "We must hasten back to the Red Rocks for our celebration of the return of the herds!" As everyone mounted up, Sheikh Jaasir found that his gaze was drawn to Aesha and Freeheart. She leaned against the stallion, as if asking for strength. The stallion lowered his great head, nudging it against her shoulder. That one simple gesture seemed to reassure her above all else, as she opened her remarkable purple eyes and jumped on his back, a faint smile on her face.

He knew then that he had made the right choice, all those years ago.

* * *

**Please review!**

Well, we're taking baby steps when it comes to Az and Jeb's relationship, but I think they've reached an accord of sorts, which is always a good thing. And more is being revealed about the past.


	9. Interlude: Sheikh Jaasir

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: Appropriately enough, "A Father's Love," from the Buffy soundtrack

* * *

_Sheikh Jaasir Abd al Ati knew that what he was doing was treason in one of its highest forms. The Vedu were ruled by tradition, and tradition stated that Windrunner riders had to be of Vedu blood. Sheba herself had laid down that law. No Outlander had ever laid their hands on a Windrunner and the Tribes intended to keep it that way._

_ And yet here he was, sneaking out in the dead of night to do what he felt was right. He had agonized over this decision, prayed over it. But the gods were silent. That in and of itself was strange. The gods made their feelings known, whether they approved or disapproved. Their silence meant that their feelings were in conflict as well._

_ For Jaasir, this was no longer a matter of treason. This was a matter of family. His Aesha was in trouble. The diplomatic silence of the Outlanders was not the same silence as that of the gods. Their silence was grave._

_ But his hands were tied. He could not go to her, as much as he wanted to. The life of a sheik was the life of a man bound to his people. He could not abandon them, even for the daughter of his heart. The cutting of diplomatic ties meant that Aesha was beyond his reach._

_ But there was nothing that was out of the reach of a Windrunner._

_ It was the least he could do. A Windrunner was a steady, loyal companion, and if chosen correctly, the partner to one's soul. That perfect match went beyond horse and rider, and if he could give Aesha that…_

_ He had chosen the horse very carefully. It was a young black stallion, the offspring of one of the sheik's most prized sires. Its bloodline could be traced back to Iftekhar himself. It had strength, fire, compassion, and intelligence. There was no better companion for Aesha._

_ He found the stallion prancing in the moonlight. It snorted impatiently at his approach, as though it knew exactly why he was there, and perhaps it did._

_ The sheikh laid his hands on the stallion, bidding the magic to do his will. He set the geas, one that would push the stallion forward until it found Aesha. He prayed that the geas would keep it safe until then._

_ "Go," he whispered. "Find Aesha. Help her so that her heart may run free, for I fear that evil has fallen upon her."_

_ The stallion was gone before the request left his lips. The sheikh sighed, suddenly feeling older that he really was. He had just committed treason._

_ But Aesha was the daughter of his heart. Did that not make her Vedu?

* * *

_

_**Please review!**  
_


	10. New Friendships

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: "Chaiyya Chaiyya" from the movie _Dil Se_, and then "The Passion of King Henry" from The Tudors, Season One for the very end

* * *

The celebration of return of the herds and the prince of the Red Rocks was still going on into the late hours of the night. Bonfires blazed all over the Red Rocks, each of them a site of music, dancing, feasting, and socializing. The biggest celebration by far, though, was at the sheikh's _attar._

Az sat slightly off to the side on a wide cushion, a mug of _tcha _between her hands. The hot, spiced tea with milk and sweetener was one of her favorite drinks. She grinned as Glitch was pulled into yet another dance – he'd shown a remarkable proficiency for Vedu dancing, though since this was Glitch, it was hardly surprising. Jeb was somewhere nearby, discussing Vedu training and combat tactics with Ahmet and several of his friends. Raw was deep in conversation with some of the sheikh's special shamans, the _omo'te_, the mind-healers.

"Why do you not dance?" She looked up, startled. Tahir stood in front of her, his head tilted to the side as he stared at her. With his headscarf gone, she could see that his hair was growing into masses of black curls. He was adorable.

"I am not a very good dancer," she confessed in Vedu. "I am good at Outlander dances, but they are very different. I would probably look very silly."

"You look sillier sitting alone," was the matter-of-fact reply. "I will sit with you." Without further ado, he plopped down next to her on the cushion. Once again, she found herself under careful scrutiny. "Your skin is the color of milk," he announced.

Az was bemused. "Just work on the delivery and the girls will be falling all over you," she said with a smile.

"What do you mean?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. It is something my sister would say."

"Do all Outlanders have skin as pale as you? Does it mean you are sick?" He looked at her reproachfully. "You do not spend enough time in the sun."

Az spent the next thirty minutes or so answering all of the little boy's questions about the Outer Zone to the best of her ability. She loved talking to him – children always had the most refreshing view of the world around them. In a way, he reminded her of DG. She had always been full of questions, even if she didn't have the same driving need to get the answers that Az did.

She was in the middle of describing the Northern Palace (how does one explain ice to one who lives in the desert?) when a shadow fell over them. "Tahir, stop bothering the ma'at," Rajah said gently.

Tahir blinked up at his father. "But _abu_-"

"He is not bothering me," Az said quickly. She smiled. "Really. We were having a wonderful conversation."

"Well, be that as it may, Tahir, it is time for you to sleep."

"But _abu_, I wish to stay with ma'at Aesha!"

"Your _amah_ is waiting for you," was the firm but tender reply.

Tahir's shoulders slumped before he turned to look at Az, his eyes pleading. "Will you play with me tomorrow, ma'at?"

"Of course," Az promised. The child grinned at her, dimples flashing to life on his round cheeks. He waved and walked off to where Amirah was waiting. Rajah watched his son go, an expression of the utmost softness upon his face. "Your family is beautiful," Az murmured.

He turned to look at her. "Yes, yes they are. I am a very lucky man." He gestured to the cushion beside her. "May I?"

"Of course." Az scooted over and propped her chin on her knees, staring into the fire.

"I am truly glad to see that you are well, Aesha," he said after some time. "We had heard some rumors-"

She bit her lip. "I know."

"I had wondered. It did not seem like you." He paused and wondered how he was going to address the issue between them. "I did wait for you."

If it was possible to turn as red as the sheikh's _attar_, she was sure she had already done so. "And I would have waited for you." She grinned sentimentally. "I was quite infatuated with you, you know. You were like a hero out of an adventure, so new and so different."

"New and different," he mused. "Yes, that was you as well, Aesha."

Az sighed. "What's done is done, Rajah. There is a part of me that is…sad for what could have been, but that's exactly what it is." She was sure that if they had been meant to be, something would have happened to make it so. The insult of a princess of the O.Z. being a second wife also went without saying, though Amirah did not seem to be the type to tolerate another wife. She turned to look at him. "But I would like it if we were friends."

"I would like to be friends as well, Aesha." He clasped her hand in his briefly, and they both relaxed. "Now, tell me about these plans of yours for our horses."

"Well, they are not my plans exactly, they belong to Commander Cain…"

Amirah stood at the entrance of the _attar_, her gaze resting on her husband and the Outlander princess sitting next to him. A faint line creased an otherwise smooth brow. A hand grasped her shoulder in a firm grip. "_Ati_, there is no reason to be worried."

"I know, _abu_," she replied. "I do not doubt his heart. I do not even doubt hers. It was my own heart I was worried for." She leaned against her father-in-law. "She is much lovelier than I had ever imagined. To think that he loved her first…"

"He loved her first, yes," Sheikh Jaasir said. "But you, my dear, are his true love. Do not forget that. My Aesha is still looking for hers, though I wonder if he is as far away as she thinks," he murmured, glancing off in another direction.

She turned her head to look where the young blond Outlander sat with Ahmet and his friends. "The boy?"

He shot her a look. "You are hardly his elder, _ati_. In fact, I would say you are closer to his age than my Aesha is."

"What makes you think this, _abu?_" she asked curiously, her inky eyes darting between the two with renewed interest. The longer she looked at the younger Outlander, the more she saw that he really was not _young_. His eyes were far too old and haunted by too many specters for him to be considered young. It was with a pang of sympathy that she wondered what had forced him to grow up so fast and hurt so much.

"When you have lived as long as I have, Amirah, you begin to notice the things that make a person who they are. In more time, you begin to see what qualities make people a natural match. My Aesha was never really a child, but that witch saw to it that she never grew up. She is still a child in many ways. Now, Commander Cain has been forced to grow up so fast that he has forgotten how to really live and enjoy life." He glanced down at his daughter-in-law. "What does this information tell you?"

"That they can help each other," Amirah responded after a bit of thought. "She can show him how to live. He can show her how to handle living."

"That is my girl," he said with approval. He raised an eyebrow. "Now, can you possibly spare this old man a dance?"

She laughed gaily. "For you, _abu_, I will always have a dance." She pulled him into the throng of dancers. The sounds of music and laughter went on long into the shelter of that golden valley.

* * *

"So we are in agreement," Jeb said with an almost inaudible sigh of relief as he sat back on his heels. "Sixty Cloudrunners."

Sheikh Jaasir glanced at his advisors and nodded. "Yes, Commander Cain. Sixty horses to start with, and more will come should your need become greater."

He grinned. "That will do." He withdrew a heavy pouch from his side and handed it over. It said much that the sheikh did not so much as glance inside it: instead, he passed it over to one of his advisors.

"I thank you, Commander Cain." He smiled broadly. "It is a pleasure doing business with you."

Glitch cleared his throat. "May I ask, Jaasir-_son_, if we can have some sort of protection detail for the horses? We four are not enough to get them safely to the Northern Palace."

It was Rajah who answered. "You need not worry, Sir Glitch. We always send a contingent of men with our horses when we sell them. It's our, how do you say, policy." His eyes twinkled. "Our horses are a precious commodity and they are treated as such."

"How far would they be willing to accompany us?" Jeb asked.

"As far as they are needed, so long as they are granted safe passage back."

"They will have it, on royal authority." Az spoke up for the first time since negotiations began. "I can promise that."

"We can arrange for an army escort to meet us at the Northern Pass," Jeb said briskly. "An infantry unit can mobilize fast enough if we leave here in a week. That way our escorts will not have to ride quite so far."

The sheikh stroked his beard. "That may not be necessary, if the escort group were to include an envoy of the Tribes to your court."

His idle musings caused an immediate uproar among his advisors. The shock was so great that some forgot the restraint that is so valued among the Vedu, leaping to their feet and shouting. The three Outlanders stared with shock as Rajah quickly seized control.

"Father, that was a most unwise thing to say at such a time," he said quietly. "It is too large of a decision and it was made hastily. It is one thing to accept Outlander envoys to a single tribe, but an envoy of our own requires the consent of all the tribes. Such a decision cannot be made in a week." He turned to the others. Sheikh Jaasir managed to look both chagrined and stubborn. He regretted speaking aloud, but because he had done so, he would see it through. "I am sorry, honored guests, but you must excuse us. We must discuss this privately."

Az rose to her feet, looking worriedly at the sheikh. "Of course. Please excuse us." The three exited the _attar _quickly as the shouts began again.

"Jaasir-_son_ has opened up a can of worms," Glitch observed as they made their way over to the grazing plain, saddles in hand. There was little else to do except ride around the camp. Raw had made friends with the sheikh's mind-healers the night before and had politely requested not to attend the negotiations so that he could talk with them more.

"It would be a wonderful thing if the other tribes allow a convoy to be sent to our court," Az replied, winding her headscarf around her head. "It was what my mother and _abu_ worked for all those years ago." Such an alliance would also make it easier to come and visit, she reflected. Now that she had her _abu _back, she was determined to maintain their relationship. She knew the sheikh would feel the same way. And who knew, perhaps she could bring DG in the future. They would get along spectacularly. She smiled at the image.

"It would certainly make many things easier. The Vedu would be a powerful ally," Jeb agreed as the wide, grassy plain where the horses grazed came into view. "All right. If we leave in a week, I need to get in as much practice time as possible."

Without thinking, Az placed a hand on his arm. "I think you're doing a wonderful job, Commander Cain. You're a good rider."

Jeb glanced down at her arm. They stared at each other for a moment and Az quickly snatched her hand away. Glitch looked between them curiously. "Thank you, Your Highness," Jeb mumbled. Seeking a distraction, he put his fingers to his lips and let out a piercing whistle. Strongwind came galloping out of the pack. "It's amazing how he knows my whistle," he said to no one in particular as he slung a blanket and a Vedu-style saddle on his back.

Freeheart had somehow scented Az and was already at her side, affectionately lipping her shoulder. "That is what makes them special," she murmured to her horse, rubbing his head. On her other side, Stormrider was also being prepared by Glitch.

"May I join you?" The three whirled around to see Amirah approaching, dressed in riding clothes and carrying a saddle. A sash of vibrant jade-green was wrapped about her waist.

"Of course, ma'at Amirah!" Glitch said cheerfully, vaulting up on Stormrider's back. "The more the merrier!"

The princess smiled and whistled for her own horse. A golden mare came trotting out of the pack as well. The mare, Sunbright, was quickly saddled. "Where shall we go?"

Jeb leaned forward as if to rest his elbow on the saddle-horn, before remembering that Vedu saddles did not have one. "I was hoping you could suggest one, ma'at. I'm afraid we don't know the Red Rocks as well as you do."

Amirah grinned. "Well then, follow me. I know the best place to watch the sunset."

The trail she chose led them on a rough, rocky path with many steep switchbacks that lead in and out of the spires of crimson rock that lined the valley. The view, as always, was breathtaking. They could see the numerous watering holes and grazing fields in the distance, as well as the many circular camps where related families lived. The _zomar_, as they were called, were dotted all over the valley and were often located near a spring.

Amirah proved herself to be a wonderful guide, telling her captive audience the names and histories of the various red rock formations that ringed the valley and pointing out the various plants that were native to the area, as well as their uses.

"Those are sweet-berry bushes," she said at one point. "We use those pale berries as a sweetener. The leaves of the bush are also natural insect repellants, so they are often hung around the _attar_."

"The kiss of death," she said, pointing to another plant. "It is a horrible parasite that sucks the life out of its host. A most terrible plant indeed."

"But that's mistletoe!" Glitch exclaimed, peering closer at the plant. "Ours has red berries, but it's the same thing!"

Jeb and Az choked back laughter at the advisor's dismay. In between chuckles, Jeb explained to the perplexed princess the plant's use during Lurlinemas.

"What an odd tradition!" Amirah laughed. She stopped at a particularly large bush covered with delicate green needles. "Needle-bush," she explained, dismounting. She retrieved a pouch from her pack and began filling it. "When made into a tea, it is a powerful stimulant. The border guards use it during long patrols, so it may be of use to you."

Jeb accepted the packet. "Thank you, ma'at."

At one point during the ride, Amirah and Sunbright somehow fell in line with Az and Freeheart. Az had been dreading this moment for some time. She wondered how much Rajah's wife knew of their history and if she would somehow resent her for it – or worse, fear that Az had maintained designs on him. The last thing she wanted was some sort of feminine battle. Her limited experience with the noble women of the court was that they hid venom beneath silk and lace. The witch had been vicious too, but at least she had been straightforward.

In the end, she decided that she should wave the white flag, decorum be damned. She didn't want to have to tiptoe about the subject and feed the woman's fears. "I am not after Rajah," she said quietly in Vedu. "He is your husband and I would never want to compromise his honor or mine. Everything is in the past and-"

She was caught off-guard by Amirah's peal of laughter. It echoed off the rocks, deep and mellow. "I know, Outlander princess. You need not worry. I was not going to confront you about your past with Rajah nor do I plan to in the future." She grinned at Az's open-mouthed surprise. "I came with you today because I would like to be friends. Is that agreeable to you?"

"I…" She had never expected this, but the unexpected offer was a welcome one. "I would like that, thank you."

Amirah looked at her closely. "Yes, I thought so."

"You thought what?"

"That you have very few friends."

Az bit her lip, surprised by her candidness. "_Abu _did say that you were blunt," she said finally.

Amirah laughed. "I am not surprised that he did. Besides, I took you for a woman who would prefer to be spoken to plainly. Am I wrong?"

"No, you are not wrong, ma'at. I have had enough of tangled words."

"Please, call me Amirah. It feels strange to hear those words coming from you."

Az smiled. "In that case, call me Aesha – or Az, whatever you prefer."

"Az." Amirah rolled the strange name around her mouth. "It's beautiful in a way, but I think I will call you Aesha as _abu _and Rajah do. It is a good, strong name – my _amah-ti_ had that name as well." She smiled mistily. "She was one of the greatest horsewomen there was. She learned to ride before she could walk and rode every day for the rest of her life. She learned the art of the sword and magic and rode with the border guards as well."

"I am honored to share a name with such a formidable woman," Az said.

They reached the overlook point and admired the sunset and the way the setting sun cast shadows over the valley, the formations turning shades of crimson, gold, and sepia. Amirah smiled as the visitors made their appreciation known. "As spectacular as the sunsets are in Yalequah, I must say that I prefer them here." She sat perched on a large rock that jutted out over the bluff.

"What is Yalequah, exactly?" Jeb asked.

The princess smiled. "Yalequah is the most sacred of our places. It is an ancient word that means 'place where the river meets the rock.'"

"A valley, or a canyon," Glitch said.

"Yalequah is more than a mere canyon, Sir Glitch. Yalequah is beyond words in its beauty, history, and significance to the Tribes. It is at Yalequah where Sheba brought Iftekhar and thus, purpose to the Tribes. It is at Yalequah where the Sundering of the Tribes took place-"

"Sundering?" Az interrupted. In all of her time with the Vedu, she'd never heard of the Sundering.

"It is not as dire as it sounds," Amirah said with a smile. "It was a time of war when we had to protect our lands from the Outlanders, so we split into the four tribes. White Antelope went north to the White Mountains, Black Lizard went west to the Black Hills, Bronze Scorpion went south to the Bronze Plains, and Red Fox went east to the Red Rocks."

"But the Tribes still return to Yalequah?" Az asked.

The princess nodded. "Yalequah is a place of pilgrimage and gathering. The heir of each tribe leads the horses and the young men for the horse-fairs, and half of each tribe makes the journey for the annual Gathering."

"What are the horse-fairs for?" Glitch asked as he picked his way up and down the rocks on the bluff. He was as nimble as a mountain goat – or his horse.

"Sport, trading, and training," was the prompt reply. "There are races and obstacle courses that are run by the most exceptional horses. Trading is self-explanatory." Amusement sparkled in her eyes. "Here is a little-known fact for you Outlanders: Bronze Scorpion breeds Windrunners exclusively, as White Antelope breeds Cloudrunners exclusively. We of Red Fox and those of Black Lizard breed them both in equal numbers."

"Why?" Az asked, her curiosity piqued. Her _abu _had never mentioned that before.

"In case you have not noticed, Windrunners are exceptional sprinters. The Bronze Plains are the ideal environment in which to raise them."

"And the White Mountains are the ideal place to breed Cloudrunners, since they're so sure-footed," Glitch finished. "I rather thought there was a resemblance between them and the shaggy mountain ponies they breed in Ev."

"Indeed! Excellent deduction, Sir Glitch." Amirah grinned at him and he blushed. "The Red Rocks and the Black Hills have enough variance in the landscape to warrant the breeding of both. However, the horse-fairs are an opportunity for us to bring our foals so that they may be trained by specialists from Bronze Scorpion and White Antelope."

The princess' willingness to answer questions opened the floodgates to many other questions on the Vedu. But as the sun truly began to set, the little group had to make their way back to the _attar_. Jeb and Glitch were whisked away to iron out the last few details of the sale and the return to the O.Z. This time, Az also declined to attend and instead went with Amirah to play with Tahir. She spent the entire afternoon with mother and son. Dinner that night was small, with just the sheikh, Rajah, Amirah, Tahir, Az, Jeb, Glitch, and Raw. The atmosphere was so different from the family dinners at the Northern Palace, for the sheikh and his family were more boisterous than DG could ever be, but the feeling of absolute warmth and comfort remained the same. It was a wonderful feeling for Az.

There was a letter waiting on her pillow when she returned to her room.

_Dear Az,_

_ When are you coming back? I miss you like crazy. Mom and Dad do too, though they express it in different ways. Mom frets like crazy and Dad goes off in his balloon more often. I think if you don't come back soon he'll fly that thing over the Great Desert to bring you back. He's definitely been making noises about it! They send their love._

_ I wish you were here. Cain is driving me absolutely crazy. Every time I turn around, he's there. I swear, the commander of the Gale Force should have better things to do than follow around an errant princess, don't you think? He's been acting so strange lately, I can't even describe it. I can only hope that his son is behaving himself._

_ Speaking of Jeb, I've been hanging around his lieutenant, Switzer. He definitely needs you guys to come back soon. Apparently, all of their old rebel friends have already showed up and are having a grand old time at the Riders' quarters. I've met some of them and they're an interesting bunch, to say the least. The first actual recruits started showing up yesterday. We've given them a rough orientation, but what they really need is Jeb._

_ Say hi to everyone for me. I hope you've been sleeping well, sister. Write back or else!_

_ Kisses, DG_

Az laughed and immediately began penning her reply. If DG's observations meant what she thought they did, then Mr. Cain was starting to open his eyes. She was looking forward to seeing what had changed when they got back. Perhaps she would even try her hand at matchmaking. She smiled just thinking about it.

Tomorrow they would begin selecting the horses, which meant that they could ride out two days later at the earliest. It would take about a day to reach the border and then another five or six days to reach the Northern Pass. This gave the infantry about eight or nine days to mobilize and meet them there, which was more than enough time.

She didn't even think when she got to her feet to meet Jeb by the water's edge. That had just become the routine for them. "Commander Cain, I'm writing a letter to DG with details about our arrival," she called when she spotted his familiar outline. She summarized DG's letter, leaving out the bits about their family and his father. "Is there anything you would like to add?

He got to his feet and scanned the reply quickly. "Saddles," was the decisive reply. "Jem can give them back to the army because we'll be bringing Vedu saddles. Other than that, it's fine." He watched as she added a quick note. "Would you be up to a formal orientation the day after we arrive, Your Highness? The sooner the recruits begin riding, the better."

"No, that's fine." She concentrated, muttered a quick chant, and the letter disappeared in a puff of smoke, soon to reappear on DG's desk. "It will be nice to be useful, I think."

He looked at her closely. "That's important to you, isn't it? Feeling useful?"

"Yes, it is," she admitted. "I was brought up as the heir, so I always had responsibilities. Everyone knew what I was capable of, so they treated me accordingly. That's why I came with Mother and Glitch here the first time." She hesitated. "Even when I was…possessed I was never really idle. I resisted as much as I could and observed her as much as I could. Everything that I could learn about her was something that maybe, just maybe, I could use against her later." Her lips twisted bitterly. "Except that opportunity never really came. I kind of lost hope for a while, until I learned that DG was back."

"You never did finish your story, you know."

"No, I didn't." She took a deep breath and continued from where she'd left off. She went through the events that transpired in the cave and after, stopping when she reached the murder of DG. "I'm sure you can fill in the blanks yourself from there on," she finished, oddly drained from the storytelling. She looked at him, willing him to say something, anything.

Jeb's eyes were inscrutable pools of quicksilver in the moonlight. "I apologize, Your Highness," he said quietly.

"What for, Commander Cain?" she asked, surprised. Much of her wariness towards the younger Cain had faded in the past few days. There was a bond of mutual respect between the two of them, and an odd sort of understanding.

"I have wronged you. I truly believed that you were still to blame for everything that happened over the last few years, when it's obvious that you were as much of a prisoner and victim as the rest of us. Perhaps more." Surprisingly enough, he believed every word. He'd seen enough of her character over the past few days to convince him.

Az shook her head. "Commander Cain, I'm not certain-"

He waved off her protest. "You have doubts about your complicity, I can understand that. You feel like you'll never be rid of her taint."

"H-how do you know?" No one had ever been able to put her feelings to words in that way, but he'd summarized them succinctly.

"I did things that I'm not proud of, Your Highness. We all did. War does that. But you cannot blame yourself for the circumstances that were brought upon you. You just have to accept them and move on. You do that, and I think those voices will slowly fade away." He peered into her face. "Do you understand what I'm saying, Your Highness?"

His words were simple, his meaning even more so. "My guilt is what keeps her around."

"Purge the guilt, purge the witch. I'm not saying that it's going to be easy. Forgiveness never is." He paused and looked off into the distance. "But believe me when I say that it will happen."

She shrugged, a particularly un-princess like gesture that she had picked up from DG. "Perhaps," she murmured. She could see that he had a point, but her guilt was a deeply-seated weight that she wasn't sure she could ever get rid of. It was simply a part of her, like the darkness that had become a blot on her soul. DG had given back her Light, but it simply was not enough to obliterate those stains.

"Come on. We have long days ahead of us, so it's probably a good idea to get as much sleep as possible." Jeb helped her to her feet and escorted her back to the _attar_.

Az touched his sleeve before he could duck into his room. "Thank you."

He smiled. "You're welcome."

Small words and small actions can often signal momentous changes. A door had been opened between the two of them, though neither knew it at the time.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think!**

_amah-ti _= grandmother**  
**

Wow, 100+ reviews. I am completely flabbergasted by the response to this story, so I really want to thank you guys for sticking with me so far. This is the first of my stories to hit this mark, though that isn't really saying something, since I only wrote one-shots. BUT it means so much that you guys like the story and where it's going. It's a definite challenge, since angst and multiple chapters are not exactly my strengths.

Yalequah is based on the Grand Canyon. And yes, there is no need to worry about a love square between Rajah, Amirah, Az, and Jeb. I hate any sort of love polygon plot device with a passion - chalk it up to watching too many Korean dramas!

Thanks again to MatsuMama, the best beta ever!


	11. The Journey Home

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: "Officer Jimbo" from the Lady in the Water soundtrack for the end of the chapter  


* * *

Az slumped forward in Freeheart's saddle, grateful for the fact that Vedu horses were so well trained that the rider could be unconscious in the saddle and they could find their way to help. They had the intelligence to seek out a safe haven for themselves and their riders. As it was, Freeheart was happily following Redmoon's lead.

That was the other wonderful about Vedu horses: they were trained to willingly follow the perceived "leader," no matter who it was. The sixty Cloudrunners currently trolling behind them were not put on a lead; they did not need one. They would follow Redmoon to the handoff and from then on, Freeheart and Strongwind would be the leaders. The best part was that there was no "battle" for dominance – the horse that took the first lead was the one everyone followed. That part would make Rider training so much easier.

She smiled. There was so much to look forward to, going home. She wanted to see her family and help with the Riders, although she already missed her other family back at Red Rocks. Jaasir-_son _had thrown a massive farewell party the night before to send them off in the proper fashion. She left her beloved _abu _with the promise to keep in touch: the sheikh was perfectly capable of performing her little transportation spell, so they promised to write each other often. She made the same promise with the rest of his family, Amirah especially. She considered herself extremely lucky with Amirah: in her, she had found another sister, in soul if not body.

It was a strange thing, to gain so many friends at one. A little over a year ago she had no friends to speak of and now she was inundated with them. She had gained not one, but two families as well, so she had that to be thankful for. Yes, she was extremely lucky,

The only problem now was smuggling her back into the O.Z. She could no longer use her original glamour because there was no reason for a woman to be riding with the party – the "dishonored bride" had been returned. An invisibility spell was out of the question – the effort of casting and cloaking it for the duration of the journey was nigh unto impossible. Her best bet was to cast another glamour, one that turned her into a Vedu _man_. Once the handoff occurred, she could reveal herself. The presence of the infantry assured her safety, and she could still cast wards at night. Not ones that granted invisibility, for casting them over so large a group was taxing, but ones that provided a magical barrier.

There was almost no need for wards at all until they met the infantry at the pass, for Ahmet had chosen his best men for their escort party. These men were extraordinary, most of them skilled fighters. There was also a shaman or two dotted among them. The Vedu would never send anyone less with their horses, for it was an insult to their pride as breeders and trainers if they didn't send the very best with their horses. They were deserving of much respect.

"Well, my fair and beautiful Azkadee, how are you faring?" Glitch quipped as he fell in beside her and Freeheart.

"Glitch, why aren't your lips moving?"

"They aren't?" He felt them. "Well, how about that? Guess I'm practicing my cloak and dagger skills."

"I don't remember ventriloquism being one of your innumerable talents, Glitch," she laughed.

"Well, since my talents are apparently innumerable in your estimation, how could you possibly know about all of them?" he responded, tilting his head to the side curiously.

"Never mind." She smiled. "And I'm fine, you needn't worry about me. I love long trips on horseback, you know that."

"Good." He hesitated. "Listen, I wanted to talk to you about something."

That was his Ambrose face – it usually only came out when his synapses were firing incorrectly or when things were deadly serious. "What is it?"

"I want to be sure that you'll be all right when Rider training begins, Azkadellia." He _was _serious – he never, ever called her by her full name. "You know that a lot of the trainees are going to be old Resistance fighters and young farm kids who don't remember anything but the witch's reign."

She winced. "You're not holding back, are you Glitch?"

"Azkadellia, I'm just worried for you. You've got a pretty soft heart and these guys are not going to welcome you with open arms."

"I know." She stared at a point between Freeheart's ears. "I know what I'm getting into, I promise. But this is…a chance at redemption for me. If I help the Riders, I'm helping them take down Longcoats. I'm helping to…erase this bad memory of what was."

"It won't be easy," he cautioned.

"I know it won't." She glanced at him. "But it's not worth winning if you don't have to fight for it, right?"

The advisor smiled, his personality slipping back into Glitch. "That's my girl."

"Besides," she continued. "Jeb is one of them, isn't he? I think we've gotten over that hurdle, at least."

A speculative light entered his eyes. "Indeed."

"What's that look?"

"What look?" he returned innocently.

"All right, we'll play it your way," Az said, shooting him a strange look in return. "But anyway, thank you for caring, Glitch. I really appreciate it." She leaned forward to hug him.

"Whoa, Azkadee." Glitch eased Stormrider away. "Not that I don't appreciate a hug every now and then, it's going to be just a bit strange in our present circumstances."

"What?" Sometimes she never understood what he was saying.

"Azkadee, you look like a man. Not only a man, a very large, very scary Vedu man."

"Oh." She giggled. She'd forgotten about her glamour.

Glitch shook his head. "Do you know how disturbing it is to hear a giggle coming from that face of yours? Especially since you haven't changed your voice."

"That would be too much effort," she responded, holding back a laugh. "It's not like I'm going to talk to anyone outside the party anyway!"

"Glitch! Get back over here!"

He sighed. "My master's voice." He winked at Az. "At least, until I finish telling him everything I know about medicinal herbs. Rider lesson plans, don't you know?"

She waved him off, grinning. As the party pushed onwards, she reviewed their conversation. It was true; she could not expect Rider training to go easily. Everyone who joined the Riders was obviously battling some phantom of the witch's reign, otherwise they wouldn't be there. She could only imagine the hostility that she would be greeted with, but she had to accept that and work through it and eventually gain their trust. That was all she could hope for.

"Banners ahead!" came the shout from the lead scout as he thundered back towards the party. They were now so close to the Great Kells that they could no longer see the peaks of the mountains as they speared upwards into the clouds. The Northern Pass was only miles away – and so were the infantry.

Home was so close she could taste it. Az quickly maneuvered Freeheart to the front of the phalanx where Ahmet and Jeb were riding. "I'll be damned," Jeb was laughing. "They managed to get here in time, after all."

"There is a large company of soldiers in green," the scout was reporting. "About eighty, to my count."

Jeb whistled. "That is a company, my friend. About four platoons of soldiers."

The scout continued. "The banners are green with gold insignia." He handed over a piece of parchment with a hastily drawn sketch. Jeb leaned over.

"That would be the insignia of the Royal Army, as expected."

"There's also one banner, white with gold insignia."

"White with gold…that's the Royal Seal!" Az exclaimed. "No one else is allowed to use those colors but the royal house!" That could only mean…

"I also saw a strange contraption that looked like a large basket with large swaths of brightly colored material attached. It looked like it would fly into the air at any moment."

"I can't believe it!" Az cried, aghast and ecstatic at the same time. "Daddy! What in Ozma's name is he doing here?"

"I imagine he's here to see you, doll-face," Glitch quipped behind her.

"Thank you, Hasani." Ahmet dismissed the scout. "You've done well."

Jeb glanced after the young man, impressed. "I'm definitely taking a page from your book when it comes to scout training."

Ahmet grinned, then quickly sobered. "My friends, I do believe the time has come for someone else to take the lead."

Az and Jeb exchanged glances. It was true enough; the herd needed to know whom their leader was. "You must lead them, Commander Cain," Az said finally. "You are the commander of the Riders, after all. Every Rider and their horse must follow you."

Ahmet fell back. Jeb swallowed slightly then urged Strongwind to take point. Ahmet waved Az into the position at his right hand. "You are the Horsemistress, ma'at," he called. "The herd must recognize your authority, as well."

Jeb smiled when she looked to him for confirmation. "The man's right, Your Highness. And I think you can remove that glamour now."

"It's about time!" Glitch commented. "That thing's been giving me the heebie-jeebies."

Az took off the pendant, tucking it into the pouch on her side. "You're right. I'd better startle them now rather than later, though I think I should give them a bit of advance warning." She muttered a spell under her breath and opened her hand to reveal two glowing balls of light. One of them shot off into the distance faster than anyone could track it. The ball glowed white, then slowly turned blue, meaning that the other globe had found its target. "Daddy?"

"Hello, sweetheart." The Prince Consort's voice was as loud and clear as if he were riding beside them.

Tears prickled in her eyes at the love and warmth in her father's voice. "I've missed you, Daddy." Her voice was thick.

"I've missed you too, sweetheart. Now you ride faster so that your old man can see your face, all right?"

"Of course." She paused. "You might want to tell the infantry that I'm with the group so that they aren't surprised."

"Way ahead of you, Az. Cain suggested that earlier and we informed the men of it this morning."

"My father is there?" Jeb blurted. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty, this is-"

"I know it's you, Jeb," Ahamo chuckled. "And yes, your father is here."

"Is he angry that you wanted to come? Surely it's dangerous for you to be traveling about, Daddy," Az began.

"No more dangerous than it is for you, darling," he chuckled. "Anyway, Cain is Cain, and he was making such a fuss that I had to let him come along." There was a wealth of amusement in his voice. "But since DG is here, I suppose it was necessary."

"DG?" Az couldn't keep the excitement out of her voice. "DG is there too?"

"There is no force in the O.Z. that could keep her from coming, not even your mother. I suggest you hurry up; I think Cain is the only thing keeping her from riding out to meet you herself. I do believe that is your dust cloud on the horizon."

Indeed, the party had just topped a gentle rise and could see the camp laid out at the base of the pass. "See you soon Daddy!" She closed her fist around the ball of light, dissipating the speaking spell. "Well, what are we waiting for?"

"Gentlemen, I think we've been riding pretty easy these past few days," Jeb drawled. "Let's ride!" He tightened his grip, urging Strongwind into a gallop. Everyone followed after him.

The sight they made was spectacular to the royal infantry that was waiting for them. A phalanx of men and horses was spread out before them, their rich, glossy coats catching the afternoon sun and setting their colors ablaze, The very ground shook with the force of their ride, and more than one soldier tensed, feeling as though they were faced with a cavalry charge.

One lone rider split from the herd – a slim figure atop a black stallion. The soldiers tensed even more when they realized that it was the princess Azkadellia.

Az slowed Freeheart to a stop and dismounted, staring expectantly at the row of soldiers in front of her. She didn't have to wait long.

"AZ!" DG broke through the line with a delighted squeal, Wyatt Cain hard on her heels.

"DG!" Az opened her arms wide and hugged her sister.

"I'm so glad you're home," DG murmured into her shoulder.

"Me too."

Strong arms surrounded the two of them. "Look at my two girls."

"Daddy." Az managed to wind one of her arms around her father's waist. She inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of cedar wood mixed with lilies – Ahamo and DG's scents.

Somewhere behind them, Cain and Jeb were exchanging awkward hugs and Glitch was on the verge of a sentimental breakdown. "Everyone's back together!" he bawled. Raw patted him on the back.

"Everyone happy," was his input.

"Jem!" Jeb shouted. "What the hell are you doing here?" He exchanged enthusiastic thumps on the back with his lieutenant.

"The princess DG invited me along," he replied. "Said I should probably start learning how to ride my horse."

"Good idea. But first things first…" He bowed to Ahamo and DG. "Your Majesty, Your Highness. May I present to you Ahmet, the man responsible for getting us here safely."

Ahamo extended a hand to Ahmet. "Thank you very much, young man. I am in your debt for returning my daughter and our friends back safely, along with the horses."

"It was my pleasure," Ahmet replied, taking his hand.

"Please, make camp with us tonight," the Prince Consort said. "You and your men must rest and have a good meal and a good night's sleep before you return. Share a fire with us tonight."

Ahmet smiled and Az breathed a sigh of relief. Her father had just gained his respect by doing the same thing any Vedu would have done: offer their hospitality. "It would be an honor," he said.

DG grabbed Az's hand as everyone began to make camp. "Come on! We have so much to catch up on!"

* * *

_They don't trust you. They'll never trust you. You saw their faces, you know it in your heart_, the voice purred in her ear. _The hatred, the revulsion, that creeping blackness festering in their souls – you know it's all because of you. You know it's true. Take responsibility, princess. I can't take the credit for everything, you know._

_How can you even dream to put things to right? Face it for the dream it is._

_You have no one. Even with your dear sister sleeping a few feet from you, you are all alone, princess. Except for me. You'll always have me._

"No!" Az gasped, sitting up straight in her cot. Her eyes darted back and forth, making sure that there was no one else in the tent. She pressed her fingers to her face, trying to reassure herself that every feature was her own. For once, she wished for a mirror. She let out a deep, shuddering breath.

She should have known that the witch's voice would be stronger now that she was home. Back in her _abu_'s _attar_, her voice had been hushed and muffled, as though she was shouting over a great distance. But here, where the memory of her was much stronger and her taint more tangible, the nightmares were bound to be just as vivid as they had been before she left.

It did not help that she'd seen those very stares hours earlier. Together, she and DG erected a barrier about the camp, one that was visible from the outside but allowed no one inside. They had each walked one half of a giant circle around the encampment; Jeb walked with Az, Cain with DG.

AZ saw firsthand what the infantry soldiers thought of her. For many, there was at first a blatant fear when they saw her using magic. For that, she couldn't blame them. The witch had never used magic for good – how could they know that she truly wanted to protect them? From there, expressions ranged from indifference to mild animosity to downright hatred and loathing. What would have happened, she wondered, if she'd walked the circuit by herself, without Jeb by her side?

But even the presence of a well-respected, well-loved ex-colonel and war hero could not protect her from overhearing snippets of their conversations.

_"-the hell does she think she is-"_

_ "-said she's going to help the Colonel with his Riders, sabotage is more like it-"_

_ "-bet them horses are demon spawn, just like that hell-horse she rides-"_

_ "-why the hell are we here, protecting her? Seems like we're the ones who need protection-"_

_ "-still don't buy that bullshit about possession. She was bad to the bone from the start."_

Tears of indignation and rage rose to her eyes just remembering it. They didn't know her, had no idea what she'd gone through. She was trying to make amends, she was _trying-_!

These men were soldiers. How could she expect to win over ex-_Resistance _fighters if the common soldiers, men who had previously served beneath the witch, could still hate her so? All of the confidence and assuredness that she'd acquired in the desert began to leak out of her like water from a sieve. She stumbled to her feet and fumbled her way blindly out of the tent-

-and right into Jeb's arms.

"Steady there, Your Highness," he murmured softly, smoothing her hair back from her forehead. "It's all right, I'm here."

"C-C-Commander Cain," she hiccupped. "How did you know?"

Jeb smiled crookedly. "Let's just say I had a feeling."

It was more than a feeling. He had eyes and ears just like the next person. He'd seen every nasty look and heard every foul oath thrown against her. It wasn't like tonight was the first night he'd heard them either. He'd even participated in such talk in the past. But tonight was the first night when he knew just how wrong he'd been, how wrong the men were now.

And he saw how those words affected her. She'd blossomed in the desert. The strong, confident woman who'd ridden beside him had wilted beneath those looks and words. Her steps faltered, her skin paled, and her eyes watered.

But he'd also seen the way that the silver fire that poured from her fingers never abated. She was still willing to protect these men despite the venom they spouted against her. If that didn't prove that she deserved redemption, he didn't know what did.

The decision was obvious. He was going to help her by any means necessary. The depth of his caring would have surprised him if it hadn't felt so natural.

He guided her over to the campfire, which had dwindled down to ashes by this time. "Want to talk about it?" His voice was hushed, for their families' tents ringed the campfire. Glitch's whistling snores harmonized perfectly with Raw's deep, rumbling ones.

"I must be crazy," she said tiredly. "It's naïve to think that I can really win these people over, especially the Riders-"

"That's the doubt talking, Your Highness," he replied softly.

"Doubt?" she repeated bitterly. "It's not just doubt. It's certainty. I'm asking the impossible of these people. How can I ask them to forgive me for what I've done? How can I ask them to see me and not the monster when this face was the face of a monster-?"

"That's where you're wrong," Jeb interrupted harshly. Az stopped and stared at him, confused. "First of all, you need to stop feeling guilty. Stop trying to take responsibility for all of the things that have gone wrong, because what happened was not your fault."

"It _was_ my fault-"

"It _wasn't_." He grabbed her shoulders. "To have blame, there must be intent. Did you ever intend to be possessed by a witch?"

"N-no," she stammered.

"You see?" He slid cool fingers beneath her chin, tilting her head up so they saw eye-to-eye. "As for that last thing…you have to give them time. And maybe they'll see what your family sees. What Glitch, Raw, my father, and all the Vedu see. What I see."

Sweet Ozma, Az thought. She was drowning in eyes that were the exact shade of Finaqua blue. That shade shouldn't have been possible at this moment, washed out by the moonlight. "What do you see?"

It was odd. For so long, he'd associated that face with misery and suffering. It had been the face of his greatest enemy. "You. Just you, Az."

"You called me Az."

For once, Jeb felt embarrassed. "Oh. Right. Sorry, Your Highness."

"No." She quelled the urge to take his hand. How would he react to that casual touch? Would he accept it, or would he shrink away from her? She decided not to chance it and smiled as gently as she could. "It is nice to hear you say my name. 'Your Highness' is so detached."

"You're right," he chuckled, relaxing. "As is 'Commander Cain.' Friends don't need such formalities, do they?"

She could not stop the way her eyes lit up. "Are we friends then…Jeb?" she asked tentatively.

"Indeed we are, Az," Jeb said easily. "And as your friend, I think you need to sleep. We have a hard journey tomorrow through the Pass."

Az realized then that she was absolutely exhausted. "That is true enough," she admitted, rising to her feet. "Well goodnight…friend."

"Goodnight," Jeb murmured, watching her until she tied the tent flap closed.

* * *

**Please review!**

All righty, we're finally starting to ramp up Jeb and Az's relationship! I will warn you though, it's still going to be a while with those two. They seem to be more amenable to a long, slow burn. Sadly, this is the end of the Vedu arc, but no worries! The Vedu will still make sporadic appearances every once in a while.**  
**


	12. Shadows Falling

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: "River Tricks Early" from the Firefly soundtrack for the last part of the chapter. Just ignore the last, oh, 12 seconds of the piece, since they don't exactly fit.

* * *

The party made it through the Northern Pass without incident, despite the enticing presence of most of the royal family and the large herd of Vedu horses. This allowed the party to move at a slower pace towards the Northern Island. This turned out to be a blessing in disguise for Lieutenant Jem Switzer, who was quickly finding Vedu horse riding to be as difficult as Jeb had.

"Well, Horsemistress, I'll leave it to you to pick out a horse for the good lieutenant here," Jeb said good-naturedly, holding a Vedu saddle in his hands. Az had spent most of the ride from the Red Rocks amongst the herd, trying to bond with as many of the horses as possible so that she could make informed decisions when it came time to match horses with riders.

"Hmmm." Az regarded the older man thoughtfully. Jem fidgeted slightly under her clear, steady gaze. The lieutenant was unnerved by the camaraderie displayed by his commander and the princess. They'd ridden off into the desert completely at odds with one another, even if a tentative truce had been put in place. Still, small teams tended to bond on long missions. He had seen it time and time again.

But as much as he wanted to trust Jeb's judgment on this situation, he couldn't help but be cautious. A lifetime of treading lightly told him to watch and wait. Perhaps the two had reached some kind of accord on their own – or the princess had forced one on Jeb. Jem just needed to find out which possibility was true, or if there were others.

"I've got it!" Az said suddenly, disappearing into the herd.

Jem relaxed as she departed, then turned and scowled at the group that had gathered. "Don't you have anything better to do? I mean this with the utmost respect, of course."

DG grinned. "Nope. I definitely want to see this." Ahamo nodded.

"Lovely," he muttered.

Az reappeared, followed by a docile, over-sized pinto stallion. "Lieutenant Switzer, I would like you to meet Sandstrider. I think you two will be a good fit. He's steady, dependable, and unbelievably loyal, even for a Vedu horse. He'll do anything you ask him to if you treat him right."

Jem glanced between horse and princess warily. The logical part of his mind told him that this could be a trap. His baser instincts said that a horse was a horse, and the one in front of him certainly didn't _look _like a vicious beast. Then of course there was the fact that he needed to learn to ride a Vedu horse in order to train the Riders.

Jeb placed a hand on his second-in-command's shoulder. "Jem." That one word was both encouragement and warning. He could very well guess what his old friend was thinking, and could sympathize. He'd ridden that same storm of emotions over the past few days, after all.

It was all too easy to have doubts about Azkadellia. Even _he_ could admit that after the strides they'd made in their relationship. Magic was always an unknown and unpredictable element and it wasn't too far beyond the realm of belief that he had been enchanted. Sometimes he couldn't help but wonder if he had. How else could he explain the way he understood her, and – Lurline help him – cared for her, in his own way?

But Jeb _did _understand Az, especially after the events of the previous night. For the first time, he truly saw the daunting task before her. The amount of strength it would take was enormous, and the amount of work would be overwhelming. Azkadellia had more strength and willpower than anyone could ever know, but she still needed help. Help that Jeb was willing to provide.

One step at a time, he reminded himself. Jem was only the first step of many. "Come on," he urged. He'd throw his second into Sandstrider's saddle himself, if he had to.

Jem read the intention in his friend's voice loud and clear. He raised an eyebrow in disbelief. Just what had she done to turn one of her toughest critics into a knight in shining armor?

Az was blissfully oblivious to the tension between the two men. She mistook Jem's hesitance for the inevitable nerves that came with facing the Vedu style of riding. "Here." She stuffed a few apple slices into the older man's hand. "Offer them to him."

The lieutenant accepted the slices and turned to face the horse. "Hello – Sandstrider?" He glanced at Az, who nodded encouragingly. "Good boy. Do you want some apples?' The horse perked up at the sight of the snack and eagerly ate every bit offered. He allowed the lieutenant to touch him, clearly ecstatic at being stroked.

"Walk him around," Az suggested. "Go ahead, just walk. He'll follow you." Within minutes, Sandstrider was happily following his new rider around the field.

"Good job," Jeb murmured in the princess' ear.

Az had to force herself not to jump at his sudden proximity. The man moved like a cat. "That was the easy part. Let's see what happens when he has to ride."

To Jem's credit, he only looked askance at the saddle once. It took him three tries to successfully vault onto Sandstrider's back. To the _stallion's _credit, he kept still the entire time, looking for all the world like a statue. Jeb could only remember Strongwind's very apparent disdain during _his _first attempts.

Az quickly vaulted onto Freeheart's back and approached the new rider. "All right, to get him moving, all you need to do is tighten your grip around his flanks. But be careful not to squeeze too-"

Sandstrider broke out into an all-out gallop. With a rather unmanly shout, Jem tumbled backwards off the saddle with nothing to hold on to.

"Tight," she said with a sigh. Jeb was laughing hysterically at his friend, who was staring up at the sky, stunned. Sandstrider, noticing the absence of his rider, trotted back and began lipping Jem's face out of remorse and relief.

"Gah!" Jem gently but firmly shoved the stallion's head away and sat up, glaring at Jeb. "I'm fine, thanks for asking."

Jeb, still chortling, hauled his second-in-command to his feet. "I knew you'd be fine, you whiner. You've taken worse falls than that before! Need I remind you of that time in Central-"

Az cleared her throat. "Can we continue?"

Within the hour, Jem was deemed competent enough to ride Sandstrider for the rest of journey home. Of course, there were hiccups along the way, and Jeb took great delight in prancing Strongwind in circles about his lieutenant, gleeful that his awkward student days were mostly over. Strongwind decided to keep his rider humble by jolting him in the saddle several times, to much cursing. Az and the others followed, amused by the whole spectacle.

The rest of the journey passed uneventfully. They parted company with the infantry on the Great Gillikin Road, as they were close enough to the Northern Palace to ensure their safety. The Great Gillikin Road was also well guarded, with guard outposts stationed every five miles. When Azkadellia finally saw that beautiful, sparkling palace on the lake and felt calm. This was another home to her, and while it wasn't home in the same sense as the desert, she was glad to be back.

Queen Lavender was waiting at the head of the causeway. "My Azkadellia," she said, opening her arms wide for her daughter. Her lavender eyes glittered with happy tears.

Az climbed off Freeheart's back and walked into her mother's embrace. She inhaled deeply, taking in the familiar scent of lilacs. "I'm home."

"Look at you!" The queen took her face between her soft hands. "You look wonderful, my dear. So tan! The desert certainly agrees with you."

"But there's no place like home," DG quipped.

"Your Majesty." Az knew without turning around that Jeb had dismounted and was now bowing deeply behind her.

"Commander Cain." Queen Lavender inclined her head graciously. "I thank you for delivering my daughter home safely." Her eyes widened slightly when she saw the large number of horses. "I see that you were very successful."

"Indeed we were. Begging Your Majesty's pardon, but I would like to see my trainees as soon as possible. May I deliver my report tonight?"

"You may, Commander Cain. I imagine that the need of your Riders is greater than mine at the moment," she said, her eyes dancing with amusement. "I'm sure that Ambrose, Raw, and my Azkadellia will be able to tell me the details of your journey." She took her husband's arm and began walking towards the palace.

"Wait," Az said as Jeb turned to go. She dug into her waist pouch and produced a sheaf of papers, pressing them into Jeb's hands. "Please give these to the Riders' stable master when you drop off the horses. And please tell him that I will be by shortly to properly debrief him."

Jeb accepted the small packet. "Would you like me to be there as well?" He lowered his voice unconsciously. He moved no closer, but his entire stance seemed to scream protectiveness. Raw smiled smugly at the back of the group.

"If you wish." She smiled. "But you must see to the Riders first. I can take care of this myself."

"I'll be there," was the firm reply. With that, he turned and vaulted onto Strongwind's back and trotted off, with Jem and the rest of the herd following close behind.

DG had been following the little exchange with great interest. The wheels began turning in her head and she realized that her sister had left out a great deal about her time in the desert. Her gaze slid over to Glitch and she grinned. She knew exactly whose brain to pick should Az not be so forthcoming.

"Come on, let's get these horses stabled," Az said.

* * *

DG bounced on Az's bed that night. "Az, I'm so glad you're back," she said sincerely. "I can't tell you how weird it's been without you the past few weeks."

Az carefully placed her letter into an envelope and sent it off to Sheikh Jaasir to let him know that she had arrived safely. "I know, I missed you too Deeg. I'll tell you what," she said, clambering onto her bed and putting an arm around her younger sister. "The next time I go to the Vedu, you're coming with me. You'd get along so well with _abu_ and Rajah and Amirah and Tahir…"

"I feel like I know them already, because of your letters." DG's eyes lit up. "But there was something that you failed to mention in your letters, oh sister of mine."

"Hmmm? What's that?"

"What on earth is going on with you and Jeb? Your relationship has done a complete 180!"

Az smiled, though DG's metaphor was confusing. What the number 180 meant to relationships, she had no idea. "He trusts me, Deeg. I'm not entirely sure how it happened, but he does." She told her about the continuing nightmares and how Jeb had helped her. "I feel as though it's an enormous step forward and that's why I really feel that I can help with the Riders. I'm still scared, though," she admitted. "But knowing that I have his support makes all the difference."

"Not just his," she reminded her. "You have ours, too." And because this was DG and she didn't let things go so easily, she pressed on. "Are you sure that's all it is between you and Jeb, big sis?"

Az's brow furrowed. "What do you mean, all…" She trailed off as she correctly interpreted her sister's look. "Me and _Jeb_? Oh Deeg, where do you get these ideas?"

Azkadellia's surprise was genuine enough, but DG was undeterred. "When the obvious truth is staring me in the face, of course. It's like you two have some sort of…connection, or understanding." She didn't mention the way he looked at her, since Az wouldn't understand the reference. But _damned _if it wasn't like Colin Firth looking at Jennifer Ehle over the piano in _Pride and Prejudice…_

"Well, I won't deny that there is an understanding between us," was the slow reply. She was reluctant to reveal exactly what Jeb told her, but she owed DG some sort of explanation. "He said that he could see where I was coming from, in terms of dealing with past actions. But that does not mean…well, whatever you're implying!"

DG smirked. "And just what am I implying, sister dear?"

"That…that Jeb and I are…" Az stopped, refusing to give in. "It's quite impossible, and you'll do well to put it out of your mind."

"My, you're sounding like Glitch when he's in Ambrose mode. I didn't know you could be so stuffy, Az!" The younger princess decided to back down for now, even though it was hilarious to see her generally unflappable older sister so flustered. It looked like Glitch was in for a fierce round of questioning. Raw too, for that matter. "Anyway, it was just a thought."

"Such an odd one." She smiled. "You should get to bed now, Deeg, or you'll be cranky in the morning."

DG made a face. "Don't I know it!" She pushed an unruly curl out of her face. "Are you sure you don't want me to come with you tomorrow?"

"You can't fight all of my battles, Deeg. This is something I have to do myself."

"All right then." She scrambled off the bed and tucked the blankets around her sister. "Well, sleep well. You'll need it."

"Good night, little sister. I love you."

"I love you too, Az."

* * *

Az lay awake long after DG left, going through that conversation again and again. The thought had never occurred to her. She rarely thought of any sort of romantic relationship because she was a realist. No man in his right mind would want to be involved with her, considering her past. The witch had tainted her in more ways than one. No, she would never _dream _of inflicting her problems on any man. Especially a man like Jeb Cain.

Jeb had a bright future ahead of him. He had emerged from dark times as a war hero, gaining even more respect through his army career. The Riders were sure to be a success, cementing his reputation. He was young, handsome, ambitious, and driven. From their time together in the desert, she'd discovered that he was also honorable, kind, and loyal. He was not without flaw, since she also knew all too well his pride, his grudges, and his tendency to jump to conclusions. But to her, he was the closest thing to perfect.

He was also completely out of her league. No matter what DG thought she'd seen, that was the plain and honest truth. She had no business thinking of him in such a way, which was why DG's observation had come as a surprise. No, Jeb Cain deserved someone young, pretty, and untainted by darkness. He deserved so much more than she could ever offer – after all, all she had to give were the shattered fragments of the girl she'd once been. What DG suggested was nothing more than an impossible dream.

And yet, for one moment, Az allowed herself to dream. What would it be like to see regard in that wonderful, clear blue gaze? Would it be wonderful, being in his arms for more than a lingering moment? Could they have the kind of love that her mother and father and Rajah and Amirah shared? She could not deny that she envied that love and wanted it for herself. She wanted to be cherished, one part of a seamless whole.

But it was not meant to be. She brought herself ruthlessly to the present. Oh, how she resented DG for planting that thought in her head! She was content with Jeb's friendship, for that was all they could have together.

Az sighed. Her gaze drifted to the teak wardrobe in the corner of her room. After the incident with the mirror, the housekeeping staff thought it prudent to put the new mirror within its closing door. There was less temptation to look at it, and since it was mounted to the heavy piece of furniture, it would take a great deal of strength to send the entire thing toppling to the ground. She would probably crush herself in the process.

She turned restlessly in bed. She missed the comfort of her small pallet in her _abu_'s _attar_. She longed for the heat of the desert day pressing into her skin and the chilly stillness of a desert night. She wanted to hear the soothing rumble of her _abu_'s voice, bask in the familial affection of Rajah and Amirah, and feel Tahir's heartwarming hugs.

But what she wanted most of all was to be in that place where the nightmares were nothing more than a faint whisper. She dreaded the long, dark hours that awaited her. She could hear that horrible, taunting voice again, now that she was back in the O.Z., in the heart of a castle where she'd killed her sister. Oh, that these walls could talk. It was so difficult to remember the happier times here. Each memory was poisoned because of _her_.

Sweat began to gather on her brow, and her breath came out in short, shallow pants. It was unbearably pathetic, that the mere thought of hearing that gravelly, insidious voice could put her into such a panicked state. That voice had power over her, and if she listened to it long enough, she would begin to believe everything it told her. How else could she have been held prisoner for so long?

_You are nothing without me_. She'd been told that, over and over. It was easy to believe that here and now, when the night was at its darkest and coldest. It was one of her deepest fears – that without the witch, Azkadellia Rosamund Gale was nothing more than a void that needed to be filled. Because Azkadellia was nothing but the absence of the witch.

Perhaps that was why she hated mirrors so much. She expected to see the witch – or nothing at all.

Az couldn't bear it. It was happening again. The very air seemed to smother her with the weight of her own torment. She needed to get _out_.

The gardens, prompted a corner of her mind. Perhaps she would find some semblance of peace there, if only for tonight. She paused only to grab a robe and cast an invisibility charm. There was no need to alarm the night guards.

As she drifted through the castle, she felt a stab of irrational hope. Perhaps Jeb would be there, waiting, as he had done in the desert. Her pace quickened at the thought.

It took no more than a few seconds to slip past the magical wards that she encountered. She silently thanked Tutor for endlessly drilling her on shielding theory, and Glitch's bubble experiments. From that knowledge she'd crafted strong, flexible, and invisible shields that allowed her to simply slide_ between _the wards that had been laid upon the castle. She smiled, feeling the warmth and strength of her mother's magical signature upon them.

There was no moon tonight. The O.Z. summer was at its peak. Even now, the night air was dewy with humidity, and perfumed with freesia and heather. Az held her breath, waving a hand to open the white wrought-iron gate. All paths led to one large clearing, littered with stone benches and a small fish pond shadowed by a weeping willow. Surely he was there…

The clearing was empty.

Azkadellia's heart sank. Of course he wouldn't be here. He was sleeping, preparing for the day to come. Now that they had returned, he had better things to do than baby-sit an emotionally bedraggled princess. A single, bitter tear made its way down her cheek. How utterly _stupid_ of her, to think-

Strong arms wrapped around her from behind, enveloping her in a warm embrace. She smelled leather and pine trees.

_Jeb_.

Her heart began to beat again, and she allowed herself to take the comfort he so freely offered.

They stood that way, silent, linked, and in peace, beneath the blue moon.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think!**

*hugs* You guys are _awesome_, seriously. Coming up next: we meet the Riders!**  
**


	13. Training Begins

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: "Another Brick in Hadrian's Wall" from the King Arthur soundtrack

* * *

Jeb watched as Az rewrapped her sash for the fifth time. Wearing her Vedu riding clothes may have seemed like the practical choice since they were focusing on horseback riding after orientation, but it went deeper than that. Those clothes were her armor and security blanket, a reminder of a time when she was happier and had less to fear. He certainly could not begrudge her that. Besides, in Vedu clothes she looked as far from the sorceress as she could possibly get. Every little bit helped.

He touched her shoulder. "I think you can stop now, Az. Are you all right?"

She tried to smile and failed miserably, touching her thick braid. "As long as they're not burning me in effigy, I'll be all right." The joke fell flat as Jeb grimaced.

"I prepared them as best as I could last night, but it will still take some time. Remember, I'm right here."

"You can't be there all the time, Jeb." Az frowned. This was an eerie repetition of her conversation with DG the night before. In fact, the more she thought about it, they had acquired a similar turn of phrase when it came to giving her pep talks.

"No," he agreed. "But I will be with you as often as I can. I promise."

Neither of them spoke about their meeting in the garden. It was something precious, a moment to be tucked away and carefully retrieved and relived in the privacy of one's heart. She'd needed him, and perhaps he was beginning to need her as well.

Az's eyes darted towards the door, hearing the chattering beyond it. "How many of them are there?"

"Total? Forty. I expect we'll lose about ten to fifteen of them when we really get into training." He shrugged. "Some will find that they're just not cut out for this kind of life. The hours, the orders, the stress…it's best for them to find out what they're getting into right at the beginning."

"I see. That's why their training is so intense."

Jeb nodded. "They'll have various types of combat training in the mornings, riding lessons in the afternoons, and practical lessons at night – strategy and tactics, medicinal herbs, mapping, tracking, and all of that. For those we'll have guest lecturers, like Glitch. You also have to keep in mind that this is all without the field training exercises that we'll add later on."

The look in the princess' violet eyes was thoughtful. He was about to ask her what she was thinking before he realized that it would seem like he was prying into things that he wasn't privy to just yet. Private thoughts were still private thoughts, even among friends.

"The palace seamstress would like to see us after orientation." Her quiet voice intruded on his thoughts.

"Oh? Why's that?"

"She's drawn up several sketches for the Riders' uniforms and would like us to make a decision."

Jeb glanced down at his simple shirt, tunic, breeches, and boots and grinned ruefully. "Uniforms would be good," he admitted. "They'll provide some semblance of unity until we can pound that idea into their heads."

Jem stuck his head through the door. "Jeb, everyone's here."

The commander looked down at Az. "Ready?" She nodded, taking a deep breath and following after him.

The room went dead silent the moment Azkadellia stepped through the door. Only years of royal etiquette kept her head up, but it was difficult to remain strong in the face of that unforgiving silence and the hostile stares. She tried valiantly not to quail. She had to show them that she did belong there and that she had something to offer. She wanted to show them that she was not to be feared or hated.

As she sat down beside Jem, the whispers began.

"-thought he was joking when he said-"

"-got to be kidding-"

"_Witch._"

Jeb stood at the front of the room and cleared his throat. All murmurs ceased. "Welcome, future Riders," he said mildly. "In case you've forgotten, I'm the Commander Jeb Cain of the Queen's Riders – in other words, the man who will be running you ragged for the next few weeks." Several chuckles came from the crowd at this. "I know you've had a rough introduction with Lieutenant Switzer and the Princess DG, but allow me to reiterate why you're here.

"We have been rebuilding the O.Z. to the best of our ability within the last year, but there are some things that have been left languishing. Banditry has increased dramatically within the last year and the Royal Army and the Tin Men have not been able to address this because of larger issues. Both organizations also lack the infrastructure and organization to truly deal with the bandits-"

"Most of whom are ex-Longcoats, isn't that right Commander?" interjected a tough-looking redhead with hard green eyes, staring straight at Azkadellia. Murmurs of agreement rose and the princess suppressed a flinch.

"Some of them are, Micah," Jeb said softly. "Some are simply opportunists. They strike fast and they strike hard. Then they disappear. But the Riders-" A glint appeared in his eyes. "Will respond faster and strike harder. And we will make those bandits disappear."

The room erupted into cheers. Jeb put up a hand. "But getting there will be tough. You will not have worked so hard in your entire lives – not even if you were a member of the Resistance. What you have to remember is that this is for the O.Z., for the paradise we lost and are now fighting to regain. This is what you have to look forward to."

As he began outlining the schedule for the next few weeks, Az couldn't help but notice that some of the trainees looked taken aback and downright resentful. Some looked fiercely eager, sitting forward in their chairs and hanging on to their commander's every word. It would be interesting to see who would stay and who would go.

"We're going to start right away, since I daresay you lot having been sitting on your butts for far too long waiting for me to come back." He cleared his throat. "We're starting with the most important part – your horses."

"Demon spawn is more like it, if they came because of her," someone muttered.

"Belay that!" Jeb snapped, making several trainees jump in their seats. "Those horses are not demon spawn. They will be your partners, companions, and friends. These horses are like nothing you've ever known – so if you think you know anything about horses, you'd better forget it. They will be your best weapon in the field besides your mind, so you better treat them right."

"Your horse's wellbeing comes before your own," Az added, speaking up for the first time. She stood up beside Jeb. "You cannot trust the care of your horse to anyone but yourself, so you must accept that responsibility. You must be uncompromising in your attention to it. Do that and you will have an equal partner and a loyal friend."

"Well said, Horsemistress," Jeb said. "The Princess said you must be uncompromising in your care, and we will be uncompromising in our appraisal of that care. We will not tolerate shoddy treatment. But I promise you, the effort will be worth it. So now, if you will follow us out to the field, we'll get you started."

Outside, Gordy was helping Rojer put out a barrel of apples. The hostler smiled at Az. "Good morning, Your Highness. Those Vedu horses are beauties."

"A good morning to you too, Rojer." She returned his greeting, grateful for a friendly face. "Have you been getting acquainted with them, then?"

"A bit," he admitted, his brown eyes glowing with excitement. "They're just like the stories say they are, and more." He flushed. "Well, the lads and I set up the jumps you asked for, so I best be getting back to the stables."

"You can stay if you like," she offered.

"Oh no, Highness." He glanced back at the big group of trainees. "This I'd best leave to you." With another shy smile and a bow, he ambled off.

If anyone noticed the ease of the relationship between Az and the chief hostler, they did not remark on it. Instead, their eyes were riveted on the adjacent field, where the Cloudrunners were peacefully grazing. They had already adapted to their new environment.

Jeb turned back to the trainees. "All right, we've prepared a little demonstration so that all of you can see just what these beauties are capable of." After a quick glance at Jem and Az, all three whistled for their horses at the same time.

Freeheart, Strongwind, and Sandstrider instantly broke from the herd and leapt over the fence, trotting over to their respective riders.

"You will notice," Az explained, accepting a saddle from Gordy. "That Vedu saddles are made differently from others. They don't use stirrups, bit, bridle, or reins." She talked as she belted the saddle. "This is why Commander Cain said you must forget everything you know about horse riding – beginning with how you perceive the horses.

"As you can see, even though Commander Cain, Lieutenant Switzer, and I called for our horses at the same time, they still managed to make their way to their rider. Vedu horses are smarter than any horse you've ever seen…and perhaps much smarter than we give them credit for," she said, patting Freeheart affectionately. The horse blew into her hair as if in agreement, provoking several startled laughs from the trainees.

"You will develop a bond with your horse," Jeb continued, grabbing an apple from the barrel and offering it to Strongwind. "If any of you have had a pet, multiply that by a thousand and you may get an inkling of what kind of bond it is. Luckily, you all have the chance to experience it."

"How do we ride these horses, then?" called a man with hazel eyes, white hair, and a forbidding countenance.

"Good question, Dunstan," Jeb said. He glanced at Az. "I believe I will give the Horsemistress the honors."

Az grinned. She placed a hand at the front and back of the saddle and vaulted, her body sliding into the saddle with the grace of an acrobat.

"We're supposed to learn how to mount like that?" A trainee whispered.

"Not just that," Az said. "Come on my heart, let's fly," she whispered, tightening her legs around his middle. Freeheart tossed his head and leapt forward.

A lot of planning had gone into this first demonstration. The Vedu created jump courses in order to harness the courage, range, accuracy, power, agility, and control of their horses. Any horse worth its salt was trained regularly on a variety of jumps and obstacles. Ahmet had drawn out a plan for her, one that the border guards used for their training. She'd sent the plans ahead to give to Rojer so that they could have a course set up by the time they got back.

The course consisted of about sixteen obstacles, most of them jumps that reached six feet in height. It was the rider's job to navigate the route, saving ground as much as possible with good turns and lines, as well as keeping track of their horse's stride to gauge the strength and distance needed for a jump. It was the horse's job to be balanced and rideable, and above all accurate in its jumps.

In other words, the horse and rider had to be remarkably in tune.

Az and Freeheart approached the first jump, a spread with two poles of an equal height of about five feet. They cleared it perfectly, making a wide right turn and then a tight right turn to clear a single vertical, then straight on into another spread. A slight left turn brought them to their first six-footer vertical, which they also cleared. They turned 180 degrees and jumped another six-foot vertical and continued diagonally to an ascending spread, with the last pole levered higher than the first. A sharp right brought them to another five-foot vertical, followed by another 180-degree turn to a six-foot vertical.

Jeb smiled, taking in the astonished gasps from the trainees as they forgot just who was riding and appreciated the display for what it was. Az was utterly in control and composed as she led Freeheart through the course as well as any of Ahmet's riders. They were truly a sight to behold, the dark stallion and his pale mistress, her purple sash catching the sun. They moved as one, with Az shifting her weight back and forth and side-to-side to keep herself balanced on Freeheart's back.

They galloped straight and then made a right over two jumps over ascending and descending spreads, then making for a spread with the poles crossed into an X. They turned 180 degrees again, this time to the left, and made for their first triple bar, with each bar set at a different height. Again, they cleared it perfectly before heading for a descending spread followed by another six-foot vertical. They turned around again and made for another X spread, leaving the last and most difficult obstacle: the open water ditch.

Open water was the most daunting task for both horse and rider. Water was often unnerving for horses, even those trained by the Vedu. There was a drop fence (only four feet as they approached, but it went down to six feet on the opposite side) into a shallow pool of water, and then a six-foot vertical at the other end.

"Ready, my heart?" Az whispered. She shifted her weight to the front of the saddle to signal the jump. As the stallion leaped forward, she began shifting her weight back so that there was less strain on his front legs, making the sudden six-foot drop less of a shock. Freeheart plowed through the water and made the six-foot vertical easily, finishing the course.

The trainees clapped, stunned. Az slipped off the sweating stallion, producing sugar cubes. She praised him in Vedu as she fed him the cubes, stroking his head.

Jeb turned to the trainees, grinning broadly. "Obviously, we won't ask you to do something like this just yet, but eventually you will. But first things first – you get to pick out your horses."

The trainees began whispering amongst themselves excitedly.

Az glanced up from Freeheart's neck. "There isn't enough time for me to select horses individually, so it is up to you to go amongst the herd to select your mount. However, I cannot stress enough the fact that you _must _approach the horses with respect. They will not tolerate dominance, and we certainly will not tolerate any thoughts of breaking them." Her violet gaze hardened, causing many to blanch. But then she smiled, open and friendly. "I suggest you make use of the apples. Bribery always works."

With that dismissal, the trainees moved towards the herd, grabbing a few apples.

"What should we do, Princess?" Jeb asked, coming up beside her. Jem was on his heels.

Az moved over to the fence, debating. The trainees, depending on their personalities, met the horses with confidence or timidity. "I think we should probably move among them to make sure they are approaching the horses correctly. Also, you and the lieutenant know many of these trainees better than I do. You'll know right away if they're making the wrong choice in a mount, even if you don't know the horses like I do."

"And you'll know a bad match if you see one because you know the horses better," Jeb decided.

Az nodded. "Yes. And you two also know how to deal with the horses, so if there are any problems you'll know what to do."

It was difficult for Az, moving amongst the trainees. Many of them shied away from her or snubbed her. The only comfort came from the horses themselves. They greeted her cheerfully by blowing in her hair and sniffing her pockets for treats. Freeheart had followed his mistress into the field as well, hovering over her like an anxious mother.

"Excuse me, Horsemistress?" Az turned around, facing a man with brown hair and eyes and a kind face. "Jeb – I mean, Commander Cain said you know all these horses' names. I think the two of us are a good match, and I would like to know your opinion as well."

"What are you asking her opinion for, Bo?" Micah said nastily. "She'll just give you a horse that will as soon as throw you than carry you."

Out of the corner of her eye, Az saw Jeb start forward, his face like a thundercloud.

Bo rolled his eyes. "Because she's the Horsemistress, Micah," he said laconically, with the patience of someone who knew how to deal with the woman. "No one knows these horses better than she does, and I respect her opinion."

"Respect for her is a one-way ticket to getting your soul sucked out," the redhead snarled, obviously irked that he wasn't taking the bait.

Surprisingly enough, it was Jem who managed to diffuse the situation before Jeb. "Come along, Micah," he murmured. "You have yet to pick a mount."

"Try Proudflame," Az murmured to the lieutenant as he walked past, nodding at a palomino stallion that grazed by himself. She had a feeling that a girl like Micah needed a mount as independent and fiery as she was. They would be formidable together.

"The hell if I'm going to ride a horse _she _recommends," the woman protested as Jem dragged her towards the stallion.

"I'll apologize for Micah," Jeb sighed, running a hand through his hair. "She's been through a lot."

"Haven't we all?" Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

"She'll come around, don't you worry, Horsemistress," Bo said cheerfully. "Anyway, my horse is-"

The mare standing behind him nudged him out of the way and whickered in greeting. Az chuckled. "That is Starlight. She's a blue roan, and very straightforward." Bo was obviously a dreamer. He and Starlight would get along perfectly. "I believe you've made a very good choice…Bo, is it?"

"Yes it is, thank you Horsemistress."

"Why don't you lead her around the field a bit so you get better acquainted?" she advised. Bo nodded and walked off, with Starlight walking by his side.

Several brave trainees gathered the courage to seek out her approval soon after. Az met Sula, Bo's partner – a no-nonsense black-haired beauty who chose a quiet champagne mare named Desertflower. Sula's younger brother Windy picked Cloudchaser, a piebald mare. She even helped Dunstan pick a strawberry roan stallion named Thundercall. And when she got the time to look over at Micah, she saw that the woman was clearly smitten with Proudflame, and he with her.

"I think everyone's picked a horse," Jeb said. "Time to start mounting?"

She nodded. "Help anyone who needs it."

Mounting was always the hardest part for a new rider. Cloudrunners were smaller than their Windrunner counterparts, but they were still among the largest of horse breeds. Vaulting onto the back of one of them was a daunting challenge, indeed.

"You're going to have someone boost you into the saddle until you gain enough muscle to do it yourself," Az found herself telling a shivering trainee.

"How?" the waif of a girl whispered. She could not have been a day older than sixteen and looked positively terrified – though most of her terror seemed to be directed towards her horse rather than Azkadellia. Az had no idea why since the blanket bay mare, Summersong, was second only to Sandstrider in patience and sweetness.

The princess shrugged and bent her knees, cupping her hands in preparation.

The girl's eyes widened. "No! I-I couldn't possibly, Your Highness-"

"Out here, I'm just the Horsemistress," she corrected. When the girl continued to shake her head, she sighed and straightened. "Trainee, what is your name?"

"Anka, Your-Horsemistress."

"Well then, Anka, why are you here?"

Whatever question she'd been expecting, it wasn't that. "Got too many brothers and sisters, Horsemistress. Ma and Da couldn't take care of us all, so they said we had to find our own way." Her chin firmed and lifted. "They said I couldn't do this, though. But I swore that I would, and that I'd show 'em."

"You have something to prove," Az murmured, nodding decisively.

Anka was startled. "Yes! How did you know?"

"That's something we both have in common, Anka. I have faith in you. Now…" She got into position again, raising an eyebrow. Anka swallowed but complied – and found herself flying into the saddle with a decidedly ungraceful squawk.

Az nodded with satisfaction. "Good luck, Anka." She strode off without another word. Many other trainees found themselves thrown into the saddle by the princess with sheer shock and fear for the situation drowning out any dislike they held for her.

By the time all the trainees were mounted, Az went over a detailed speech on the basic gaits and how to instruct their horses to move. She stressed the importance of pressure so that there would be no repeats of Lieutenant Switzer's unfortunate tumble off Sandstrider's back. By the time she was finished, more than one trainee looked as though their brain had been overstuffed and fit to explode.

"All right, let's trot!"

Half of the horses jolted forward a half step before tossing their heads in disgust at their riders. Jeb snorted back a laugh. Az bit back a smile. Jem felt no compunction towards human sensitivity and guffawed loudly. Apparently, those trainees had taken Az's advice a little too much to heart and had barely squeezed their horses' sides. The other trainees were already trotting around. Az was pleased to see that Anka was one of them. The girl looked pale but satisfied.

"Should we be checking anything, Horsemistress?" Jem asked politely, his eyes still twinkling with amusement.

"Yes, we should be checking if they're sitting properly in the saddle," Az said. She paused thoughtfully. "Although it has been my experience that the more _spirited _horses will do the correcting themselves-"

Right on cue, Micah let out a shriek as Proudflame kicked up his hindquarters in an attempt to seat her in a more forward position in her saddle. Jem quickly made his way to her side.

Az tracked the burly lieutenant's progress, a slight smile on her lips. "He's sweet on her, isn't he?"

Jeb followed her gaze. "Micah?" He grinned. "Yeah. I think it was love at first sight for him. They'd make a good couple too, if Micah would just get her head out of her ass." He winced at his language. "I apologize-"

She waved it off. "It's all right." It was more than all right. His slip showed that he was becoming more comfortable around her. She couldn't ask for more.

He coughed and continued. "Jem's just a softie at heart. He can't stand seeing anyone hurt, and Micah has quite a bit of baggage."

"Who doesn't?" Az murmured sadly.

Jeb glanced over at her and softened. Perhaps he had a thing for the wounded, too. "Come on," he said, eager to get her mind on other things. "Let's whip these trainees into shape!"

* * *

**Please let me know what you think!**

And so the Riders make their first appearance! There's definitely a lot of influence from Tamora Pierce (for all you Daine fans), but I definitely looked more towards Robin McKinley when it came to this training bit. I hope you all enjoyed it! There's more training fun to come, though. Thanks again to MatsuMama for being an amazing beta!**  
**


	14. Interlude: Letters From the Desert

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: "Caravan" from the Chocolat soundtrack

* * *

_Ti'a Aesha,_

_Abu is teaching me how to write in Standard so that I can write to you. I do not like having more lessons but Amah says I must. Did you have many lessons? Abu says you did because you are very smart. Abu is teaching me how to train the newest foals. He says that we little ones must learn together. Abu is silly. I am not little. You must come visit us soon so that you can spend more time in the sun. It is good for you. I hope you are having fun teaching your Outlanders how to ride as we do. It must be very funny to see._

_Tahir

* * *

_

_Dear Aesha,_

_I hope this letter finds you well and settled at your home. It is strange to be writing to you in Standard, but because Tahir is doing so, I feel I must as well. I hope you find his letter to be as amusing as Rajah and I did._

_Ahmet and his men returned from their journey yesterday. They had nothing but the highest of praise concerning the conduct of your father and your soldiers. They are convinced that in the Outer Zone, at least, there are men of high honor. Abu is pleased and is doing his best to make the elders consider the possibility of more relations between the Outer Zone and the Tribes. It will be a long process, for we are slow to change. But we will keep faith._

_Rajah talks of a trip to the Outer Zone come spring. He feels that more exposure to another land and its people and culture will greatly benefit Tahir's understanding of the world. I, of course, know that he is jealous of what Ahmet and his men have seen, and wishes to see the emerald beauty of your country for himself. I know because that is what I feel as well. We should also like to see how your Riders have progressed in their training._

_Rajah sends his regards and please extend ours to your family, Sir Raw, Sir Glitch, and Jeb._

_Pa'alam khaibi,_

_Amirah

* * *

_

_My dearest Aesha,_

_I was most heartened to receive the good news of your return to the Outer Zone. I am sure that Amirah has already informed you of Ahmet's return. His reports were most satisfactory. I shall do my best to persuade my peers amongst the Tribes that diplomatic relations with Outlanders, especially those of the Outer Zone, are not heresy. We have grown too set in our ways, too comfortable in our isolation. It is time to reach out._

_The request you have put forward in your letter was most amusing. Did you think that I would refuse knowledge to you, my Aesha, when there is nothing that I have refused you? I will gladly answer any questions you have pertaining to the training of our horses. I have enclosed a sheet of instructions that you may find useful. I wish you luck with your trainees. You are a born leader, Aesha. I have the highest confidence that you will succeed as Horsemistress or whatever course you choose to pursue._

_There is one particular item that I wish for you to remember, Aesha. There may be times when your task will seem insurmountable. You have trained Freeheart to some degree, so you know that of which I speak. _That_ is instinct. _That_ is power. You must not fear them, but embrace them both. We who train them know that there is fear to be had, for we have felt it at one time or another. We know what it is like to be consumed by the thought that we can be broken against the tide of such strength. But Aesha, that which has been broken can be reforged. Remember that._

_Please give my fondest greetings to your family. I hope that you will remember your time in the desert fondly and know that you will always have a place in my attar and by the fire's glow._

_Raidla mala'am wa Sheba dan_

_Abu

* * *

_

_Ti'a = _aunt

_Pa'alam khaibi _= remember me

_Raidla mala'am wa Sheba dan = _May Sheba guide your steps

**As always, please let me know what you think!**


	15. Introspection and Perception

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: The end credits for the Keira Knightley version of Pride and Prejudice

* * *

Az woke like she always did – instantly, with a crackling awareness that sleep could not muddle. She cracked open one eye and sighed when she caught sight of the darkness beyond the thin gauze of her curtains. She had always been an early riser, but Rider training had taken that even further. She woke before dawn, nowadays. But today was Dorothy Gale's birthday, a national holiday in the O.Z. There would be no Rider training today. The trainees were no doubt taking advantage of the break and sleeping in.

She pondered for a second before shrugging and getting out of bed. There would be no sleep for her anymore – once she was awake, she was up for the day. She was not like DG, who could go back to sleep again and again before she decided to get up. Besides, it would nice to have Freeheart, the fields, and the herd to herself for once. The thought spurred her and she dressed quickly, putting on a warm green riding habit. There was a chill in the air now, one that heralded the coming winter.

The walk to the stables afforded a perfect view of the twin suns as they began their climb, painting the sky with streaks of lavender and fuchsia. The early morning light itself was luminous and pearly, softening everything it touched. A hazy mist shrouded the emerald green hills, resembling the faerie halls from which the ancient citizens of the O.Z. had sprung. This was the O.Z. at its best, scented with magic and as dream-like as a watercolor picture. It was with a surge of pride that Az thought that the Other Side had nothing as fine.

Even at this early hour, there was activity in the palace stables. Az greeted the grooms and hostlers as she made a beeline for Freeheart's stall. She chuckled fondly as the black stallion nuzzled and twined about her as though he were a giant kitten. "Let's ride, my heart," she murmured, deciding to forego the saddle and ride bareback. She didn't want to feel any barriers today.

The pair flew together over the hills. Riding Freeheart like this made her feel closest to the desert. She could never forget that place and what it meant to her. The young Azkadellia who had gone into the desert was the one she remembered the most before she lost herself. That girl had had the world at her feet and a bright future ahead of her. She could have never fathomed what would befall her, could have never imagined that she would find herself in a situation where she could not trust her own body, her own mind. She never could have thought that she would one day fear herself.

Freeheart effortlessly cleared a fence, placing horse and rider in the paddock where the unpaired Cloudrunners were exercised in the mornings. Az briefly shook away her melancholy thoughts and smiled. It looked like Rojer had anticipated her thoughts and brought them out for her to work with. "It's nice to know that some people know me so well," she murmured into Freeheart's ear as she dismounted. She was instantly surrounded by affectionate horses, becoming the recipient of many head-butts and appreciative snorts.

"Hello my dears," she laughed, giving out as many rubs as she could. "Don't be such a greedy guts, Fallbreeze," she scolded a particularly enthusiastic buckskin stallion that practically shoved his head into her arms. "I will get to all of you, I promise!" Freeheart merely snorted and wandered off to graze with some companions.

Once all of the horses were sufficiently praised and petted, Az vaulted onto the back of a fleabitten gray mare named Starslight. "Come on, sweetheart," she murmured. "Let's see what you can do."

Jeb watched quietly from the sidelines. He was loath to approach Azkadellia when she was training the horses, so he just held back. It was amazing to watch her in action. She'd learned the basics of Vedu horse training very quickly in the desert, drawing on faint memories from her time there as a child along with the lessons Ahmet gave her. Now that she was back in the O.Z., she supplemented them with advice from Jaasir-_son_. Jeb knew that the sheikh's weekly letters to the princess always contained some sort of new technique or tidbit of knowledge.

There was something strangely compelling about the way Azkadellia worked with the horses. He could see the parallels between them – how they both had wild, untamed sides that could be destructive if used the wrong way. For Azkadellia, that was the dark side of her magic and the lasting legacy of the witch. She hated that side of her, feared it, and shoved it away in a dark corner of mind where she would not have to deal with it. She had not come to terms with that side of herself and that was why she could not forgive herself.

For the Vedu horses, that wild and untamed side was their strength, instinct, and almost frightening intelligence. The interesting thing was that Vedu training actually harnessed those abilities rather than breaking them from the horses. He saw Az do it every day when she worked with them. A good Vedu trainer, he noticed, got the horses to understand their abilities and _focus_ them. Strength was poured into every elegantly wrought movement. Instinct was honed until it was razor-sharp. Intelligence – well, no one really knew just how smart Vedu horses were, but their minds were as finely tuned as their riders'.

That kind of training was something Azkadellia herself needed to discover. She needed to confront that darkness and understand that there was nothing to fear. She could only _learn_ from such an awakening, and find the strength, forgiveness, and closure that she had been searching for. She felt lost and out of control simply because she refused to acknowledge that part of herself and come to terms with it.

As Jeb watched Az leave Starslight for another horse, he could not help but wonder if some of Jaasir-_son_'s tips were for the mistress herself, not just the horses. He wouldn't be surprised. Still, there was no one here in the O.Z. who could push Az the same way she pushed the horses.

Sky-blue eyes grew thoughtful as he deliberated. Could he be that person for her? He wondered. Did he have the _right_ to be that person – trainer, counselor, and confidante?

Jeb shook his head slightly, amused that he would presume so much. Such roles bespoke of deep intimacy and unshakeable trust. Even though he had pledged to help her in any way he could, he could not help but feel that it was not his place to be that person for her. That was a role better suited for DG or Raw.

He checked the timepiece that hung on his hip. It was a fine piece of work that Glitch made for him at the beginning of Rider training. It was sturdy, waterproof, and, best of all, accurately synced to the Time Dragon Clock in Central City. It was time for him to have a pre-breakfast ride and strategy session with his father.

Jeb pushed away from the fence and made his way towards the stables, though not without one last backwards glance at the princess and her horses. When he arrived at the palace stables, he found his father already waiting along with his white stallion, Nick.

"Good morning, Father." He took in Wyatt Cain's lack of a Gale Force uniform and grinned. "Glad it's a rest day, huh?"

Wyatt rolled his eyes. "Funny, Jeb. Don't you have a horse to saddle?"

"I'm on it." He loped off to the Riders' stables and returned with Strongwind in no time. Strongwind and Nick eyed each other for a few moments before snorting in mutual dismissal, choosing to nibble at the green grass at their feet. Jeb grinned. "Well, now that that's over with…shall we?"

Both horses were nudged into a steady canter around the lake. Wyatt was quiet for a moment before he spoke. "I've been thinking about that question you asked me the other day."

"About possible responses to a cavalry attack?"

"Yes." He was silent again, and Jeb knew better than to prod his father when he was in that type of contemplative state. He would just clam up in order to teach a lesson in patience. It was something Jeb had learned as a kid. "I'd be on the lookout for a square."

"An _infantry _square?" Jeb shook his head. "That archaic piece of work?"

Wyatt frowned at his son. "Jeb, the infantry square has been a valid military formation for hundreds of years. It has always been the most effective response to a cavalry attack. Trust me, once those ex-Longcoats and bandits get a taste of combat with the Riders, any decent strategist among them is going to come up with this."

He had to admit that his father had a point there. "Do you really think they'd pull out something like that, though?"

"Remember that the most effective way to break a square is to use artillery," Wyatt said, adjusting the brim of his hat. "Let's face it, you guys aren't going to be hauling that kind of load across the O.Z. You can't always count on the poorly-disciplined to run away in the face of a charge, no matter what kind of horses you ride." Nick let out a _whuff _of agreement, causing Strongwind to flap his ear disdainfully at the other horse. "Feints are too risky, especially when you have small numbers."

That, too, was true. One could always hope that bandits were too starved and desperate, but oftentimes starvation and desperation wrought their own kind of discipline. Most Longcoats had discipline beaten into them, lest they face the wrath of the witch. Feints _were _too risky, because there was always the chance that horse and rider would be within shooting distance of the square. Vedu horses were far too precious to expose to such a gamble. "What do you suggest, Father?" he asked eventually.

"We'll put our heads together with Glitch and figure something out." Wyatt shrugged. "I have several ideas. You could always pray that DG or Azkadellia is with you. War magic would make a good substitute for artillery fire."

"That is _not _likely to happen," Jeb said firmly. "Az is as proficient as one could hope in mounted warfare, but I think the Horsemistress will remain the only non-combat position within the Riders."

A blond eyebrow winged upwards. "And if she gets it in her mind that she wants to come along, who's going to stop her? You should never forget that she's a Gale, son. She and DG are more alike than anyone could ever know."

"She's never shown any inclination-"

"That's bull and you know it." Jeb had the feeling that if he were younger, he would have been on the receiving end of a gentle cuff to the head. "Never mind that she's a Gale, Azkadellia is a _woman_." Wyatt shook his head. "She has so much invested in the Riders – you don't think she's going to grab the first chance she gets to come along? You're going to have to be prepared for that kind of situation."

Jeb ran a hand through his hair, causing various curls to stick straight up. "I won't let it happen," he said stubbornly. "I can't be worried about her welfare on top of the mission at hand. We'd need another Rider group to protect _her_!" He scowled. "Although she'd probably say that she doesn't need protection."

Wyatt could easily foresee a lot of the same head-butting he and DG got into in Jeb's future. The parallels in their relationships with the daughters of the House of Gale were eerily similar, especially with Azkadellia coming more and more out of her shell with each passing day. Seeming docile and being docile were two entirely different things. Jeb was going to have his hands full. "Yes, I'm sure she would say that. DG would say the same thing," he agreed. "I understand how you feel, son. But believe me, there's nothing you can do about it short of locking them in a magically shielded room, and even then I have my doubts." He clapped him on the shoulder. "Come on. They're probably getting breakfast ready at the Riders' mess, right? We'll talk more about ground tactics there."

Jeb nodded reluctantly, and father and son made their way back to the Riders' barracks, their minds occupied with two magically gifted and potentially irritating royal problems.

* * *

Az dismounted from Starslight's back, pleased with that particular training session. The mare was easy to please and a joy to handle. She would be perfect for a trainee that had never ridden before and had a fear of horses. Some of the trainees were just like that, city born and bred and used to getting around on bicycles, in automobiles, or with their own two feet. It was with no small amount of pride that Az thought that once they had a taste of riding a Vedu horse, they would never want to go back.

Movement out of the corner of her eye drew Az's attention. She recognized the slight trainee and the horse that stood beside her. "Trainee Anka, it's rather early for you to be up, isn't it?" she said, wiping her hands on her habit.

The young girl froze. "I'm sorry, Horsemistress. If you'd rather be alone-"

Az laughed softly. "You can do as you please, trainee. I simply thought you'd be taking advantage of the holiday."

"I'm farm bred, Horsemistress," was the quiet reply. "I've been waking up early my entire life."

"True enough." Az chose Fallbreeze next, mounting the stallion easily. She glanced at the girl and wondered what to say. She was still slightly uncomfortable around the trainees. It was so much easier to be tossing out orders, but here she had none to give.

"Please, don't stop. I would like to watch, if that's all right with you, Horsemistress." Anka watched as Az gently coaxed the stallion into a gentle trot. The Horsemistress had a different way with horses. Anka had grown up watching her father rule their horses with an iron fist. She knew exactly how he would have dealt with hot-blooded horses like the Cloudrunners. He was of the opinion that the only way to train them was through extreme force. He used hard bits and rigorous exercise, until a horse was overworked and exhausted. His so-called "tempering" resulted in a horse that was all but broken in spirit, docile and subservient.

Anka had never been comfortable with such treatment, and after coming to the Riders, she knew just how wrong her father was in his methods. The Horsemistress would never condone such treatment. One could not bond with their horse through violence and force. Bullies ruled through fear, never respect, and just as the bullied would never respect a bully, a horse would never respect a violent rider. The Riders strove for a leader-partner relationship with their horses, never a master-slave relationship.

Even though Azkadellia's title was Horse_mistress_, she never acted like one with the Cloudrunners. She was a friend to every horse in the herd, and for that reason alone they looked to her as the leader. Some of the trainees were beginning to look to her as one, too.

Anka was one of those people. Her home village of Heartkey was isolated on the far western arm of the Lesser Kells, and had seen little of the Sorceress' influence. Still, rumors of her doings had spread that far due to the occasional band of refugees or arm of the Resistance. They had built a horrible picture for the villagers, one that Anka retained as she made her way north to answer the call for the Riders.

Still, it had never been in her nature to judge someone without taking his or her full measure. The Azkadellia she'd been faced with was a very different one from the one she'd prepared for. She'd expected a leather-clad hell-witch, not a quiet, contained woman who could ride like one of the war goddesses of old. She never, ever saw the Horsemistress use magic, either, and she shook like a leaf in a travel storm when confronted by Micah and her little group of antagonists.

Anka and the Horsemistress were more alike than she thought, and not just because they had something to prove.

With that thought in mind, Anka summoned up her courage. "Excuse me, Horsemistress?"

Az looked up. "Yes, Trainee Anka?"

"Can I…can I help?"

It took Az a while to realize what the girl was offering. She smiled. "You'd like to help me exercise the horses?"

"If you'd let me, Horsemistress." Truth be told, she was wondering if her own nerves would permit her. She exercised Summersong at every opportunity so that she could overcome her inherent nervousness.

"I think that it's a wonderful idea, Anka. You need to work on your confidence, and I think this will help." She gestured for her to come over the fence. "Pick a horse."

Anka knew that this was part of the test. She quickly obliged, clambering over the wooden fence and plopping herself into the paddock. She eyed the remaining horses, just as they eyed her.

"Remember, Anka, show no fear. You need to earn their respect, remember?"

It had been easy to earn Summersong's respect. Her mare was sweet-tempered and always appeared _eager _to help her oftentimes skittish rider. Anka was sure that these unpaired Cloudrunners were going to be different. Of course, none of them seemed particularly hot-blooded at the moment, but that could change very quickly.

Az watched as Anka focused on a flea-bitten stallion and began to approach him on the diagonal, so that he could see her coming. She applauded the girl's choice. Moonshadow and Starslight came from the same sir and dam and shared the same temperament. He was one of the older Cloudrunners in the herd, and was more likely to be patient than some of the others. She smiled as Moonshadow took his own initiative and nuzzled Anka's outstretched hand with his muzzle and then bumped her in the chest with his giant head.

"Good boy," Anka murmured, running her hands through the stallion's mane. She thought she heard Summersong snort with displeasure on the other side of the fence. Fabric rustled as Azkadellia and Fallbreeze went over to soothe the disgruntled mare.

"Mount up," she heard Azkadellia command. Anka looked over her shoulder at the Horsemistress now, her eyes wide and surprised.

"Bareback?"

A corner of her mouth twitched upwards. "We don't have any equipment here, do we? You rode Summersong bareback."

But Summersong was a good hand shorter than the stallion in front of her, and less muscular. Still, Anka nodded and moved around to vault onto his back. Thanks to frequent practice and building the strength in her arms, she managed to mount up. She adjusted her seat and then tightened her legs, signaling a walk.

Moonshadow reacted accordingly, then of his own volition moved into a trot. Anka shot a glance at the Horsemistress. Her placid face told her that this, too, was part of the test. She quickly adjusted to his movements, making sure to keep her seat. No sooner had she done _that _did he go straight into a canter. Again, Anka shifted.

Then there was the gallop. The muscular strength beneath her was glorious. She'd only gone at this pace with Summersong a few times, but it was exhilarating, as close as she would ever come to flying.

It was over all too soon. Moonshadow slowed to a stop and pawed at the ground, tossing his head. Anka stared down at him, confused. That couldn't possibly be all the exercise he needed.

"Very good, Anka. You'll do." Az and Fallbreeze circled the horse and rider. "Moonshadow was testing you. You can exercise him now and then move on to another horse without any difficulty."

Anka looked around and noticed that the other horses had been watching her little exchange with Moonshadow. For a moment, she thought she saw respect along with interest in those huge, intelligent eyes.

"Come on!" Az said. "We have horses to exercise!"

Once every horse in the paddock was given their turn, the two women lead them back to the stables. The Riders' grooms tended to the unpaired Cloudrunners while the two groomed their own horses in companionable silence.

As they exited the stables, Anka turned to the older woman. "Thank you, Horsemistress. I learned a lot this morning."

"It was my pleasure, Trainee Anka," Az said warmly. "Please feel free to help if you have any time."

Anka hesitated a moment. "Would you like to eat breakfast in the Riders' mess, Horsemistress? You could sit with me and Windy." She knew that the Horsemistress tended to avoid the Riders' mess if she wasn't with Commander Cain or Jem.

Something shifted in Azkadellia's face, a painful mixture of hope and confusion. "Why don't you hate me?" she blurted out.

"Do we have cause to hate you in particular, Horsemistress?" Sula had come up behind the two women suddenly, causing them to jump. Her short black hair shined wetly in the morning sunlight, indicating that she'd just come from the baths.

"Ah…" Az stammered, caught off guard.

Sula raised an eyebrow. "Well, there you go. Bo and I will join you at breakfast too, if you like."

A feeling of warmth spread throughout her body at that simple invitation. Az smiled happily. "I would be honored."

* * *

**Please let me know what you think!**

Hey guys, I'm so sorry that it took me so long to update. Last week was graduation, so everything was pretty darn crazy, to say the least. But now I have a nice, shiny diploma to show for the past four years' worth of hard work. Onward to grad school!

I'm also sorry that I haven't responded to your reviews for the last chapter - again with the busy-ness, plus I think I'm beginning to sound like a broken record. That doesn't mean I won't keep responding, though! Anyway, I hope this chapter is enough of a peace offering, right? Don't worry, there are plenty more chapters to come. I have no intention of stopping this story. I think MatsuMama (who is beyond amazing, by the way) would come after me with an axe. =D


	16. Interlude: Letters From the OZ

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: "Latika's Theme" from the Slumdog Millionaire soundtrack

* * *

_Dear Tahir,_

_I was so happy to receive your letter. You must tell your abu that you are a very smart boy indeed. Your Standard is wonderful. I cannot wait until the next time I see you, so that we may speak in my native tongue. To answer your question, yes, I had many lessons, just as you do now. Just as your abu is teaching you to lead Red Fox in the future, so too did my mother teach me to lead my people here. It is a great responsibility, and a great honor._

_Tahir, you must remember that to your parents, you will always seem little. Parents cannot help it – it is just the way they are. There are times when my parents treat my sister and I like we are nothing but naughty children. You will understand this when you are older and have children of your own._

_You will be happy to know that I am spending much of my time in the sun. My Riders are doing very well with the horses. I think anyone of the Tribes would be proud to see them. I know I am. I hope you continue to do well in your studies. You must keep writing to me!_

_With love,_

_Ti'a Aesha

* * *

_

_Dear Tahir,_

_I should probably introduce myself. My name is DG, and I am Az's sister. You might find it strange to have a complete stranger writing to you, but we do this on the Other Side all the time. It's called being pen pals. Palace life can be boring sometimes, so I think this would be fun for both of us – what do you say?_

_Az tells me that you're a great rider. Tell me, how can I get my horse to stop paying attention to my shoes? Shoe leather cannot be good for the stomach, right? But I'm rambling. What do you like to do besides ride horses? I'm sure you get into plenty of mischief. Don't worry, I do too. The only difference is that you probably don't have an ex Tin Man as a constant shadow, always thwarting your attempts to, say, sneak itching powder into a particularly irritating courtier's wardrobe._

_Drop me a line sometime! I'd love to hear from you._

_DG

* * *

_

_Dear Amirah,_

_I loved Tahir's letter – it was just darling. I showed it to my family, and they enjoyed reading it. I believe that DG identifies quite strongly with him. I would not be surprised if she took it upon herself to write to hi, as well. She calls it "pen pals." It is one of her many Other Side notions, but this is one I can heartily agree with. They would get along quite well, I think!_

_I am glad to hear that Ahmet and his men returned safely. They made quite an impression on my father and the soldiers here, as well. I think Jeb already misses Ahmet's quick humor. He may also choose to write letters of his own. Even though it seems like he has picked Ahmet's brain clean of information, he will no doubt have even more questions as training progresses. You should see my Riders, Amirah. Though some have more talent than others, by now they have all taken to their horses and riding as though they had been born to it. As their teacher, there is no greater satisfaction._

_You will always be welcome here in the Outer Zone, my sister. I know that you will find beauty here, even though it differs so much from the desert that we know and love._

_Until we meet again,_

_Aesha

* * *

_

_Ahmet,_

_Az mentioned that she would be sending another batch of letters out, so I thought I'd add one to the mix. I'm glad to hear that you and your men got home safely. How's border patrol going? I hope that you're not getting too much trouble from the O.Z. side. Please tell them that I said hello._

_I want to thank you again for all of the help and information you've given me. The Riders will be better because of you. Remember when you showed off your prized archer's (Shabbir, right?) skills? One day I would like to see him go up against Bo. Care to wager on it, my friend? I'm putting money on my own, as I'm sure you know._

_How's your girl, by the way? Did you take my advice?_

_Jeb

* * *

_

_Dear Abu,_

_How is it that you always know what words to say? No, I did not think you would refuse my request, but you know that I never wish to presume. Besides, my mother did raise me to be polite. Yes, abu, I am teasing you. Thank you very much for the information – I have already begun implementing some of the strategies that you have described._

_I wish that you could meet my Riders. They are marvelous students – and such personalities! Bo and Sula quarrel much like Rajah and Amirah, to everyone's amusement. Bo could easily match your best archer, abu. Windy, Sula's brother, is so adorable and mischievous. He appears to be at the epicenter of many a mishap or prank. But there is one girl in particular, Anka. There are times when I see pieces of myself in her: the curiosity and the continual drive to better oneself. Perhaps that is why I take so much pride in her achievements above those of anyone else._

_I will not deny that there is no conflict between me and other trainees. Sometimes I equate them with the insurmountable tasks that you have mentioned before. Instinct and power will not work in that situation, only time. I am continually reminded of that._

_Was it me that you were speaking of, about instinct and power? You speak of the instinct that causes me to reach for my magic, and the power that is unleashed when I do so, and you do not mean the small, everyday magics that I have limited myself to. You speak of Workings, or war magic. You know that I will not consider them, abu. My Light is weak enough as it is. I will not jeopardize it any more than I have, nor will I court the darker side again by using battle magic._

_I know that it sounds as though I am hiding, but this is the best I can do for now. Jeb, Glitch, and Raw have inquired after you and send their regards._

_May the Old Road always rise to meet you wherever your path may lead._

_Aesha

* * *

**AN**_: As always, please let me know what you think. I know it's short, but it is an interlude! Don't worry, full chapters are on the way!_  
_


	17. Training Riders

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: Meyer's "BT" as played by Joshua Bell

* * *

"Look at that!" DG exclaimed as she and Cain crossed the causeway. "Those kids look better and better each day!"

Wyatt Cain fought back the urge to point out that DG was younger than about half of the trainees and therefore unqualified to call them "kids." He simply grunted and followed her.

He had to admit that his son's plan was exceeding anyone's expectations, especially his own. The trainees' schedule was grueling and had lost them eight trainees by the second week. They were up at the crack of dawn, most often by Jem's earth-shattering shout of, "TRAINEES, _TURN OUT_!" Mornings were dedicated to physical training. It was not uncommon to see Jem and Jeb running them in laps around the lake or swimming laps _in _the lake, dogging their every move. After laps there were sessions in muscle strength and tone, and after _that _was combat training. No weapon was neglected, especially the body. Hand-to-hand combat training was Jeb's favorite lesson. Afternoons were dedicated to the horses. Trainees were encouraged to ride their horses every day to strengthen their bond with their mount.

Training was in its fifth week. Even the weakest trainee could run a full lap around the lake without feeling out of breath and was judged to be competent in both armed and unarmed combat. By now they had mastered the walk, trot, canter, and gallop and were vaulting into the saddle with relative ease. They were beginning to add mounted weapons training to their lessons and were also running a scaled down version of the jump course Az had run during their orientation.

A trainee's day didn't end once it got dark. After dinner there were lessons to be had on anything Jeb thought a Rider should know. Strategy, tactics, scouting, tracking, wilderness survival, medicinal herbs, field medicine, and many other lessons were drilled into the trainees' heads. Glitch, Ahamo, and Wyatt himself had been called in to do guest lectures. Even DG and Az were in on the lessons, as they were developing a lecture with Tutor on dealing with magic.

It was only a matter of time before the first two Rider groups would be instated. Jeb was already talking about field training exercises.

Yes, Wyatt had no doubt that the Riders were going to be a formidable group. If everything went according to Jeb's plan and there were enough recruits to station Rider groups all over the O.Z., things would be a lot better. He winced. Reports were still pouring in daily about rampant Longcoat and bandit activity in the loosely patrolled areas of the country and the inability of the Royal Army to address the matter. The sooner the Riders were instated, the better. The O.Z. needed them.

"Come on, let's watch them! Let's go, Popsicle!" The rose gray gelding ignored her and continued to nibble at her boots. "Popsicle! Why on earth do you have a taste for shoe leather?" she asked mournfully.

Nick – Wyatt's white stallion – let out a snort that sounded entirely human and disgusted. Both horse and rider shared the same temperament.

DG, having coaxed Popsicle away from her boots, craned her neck to find her sister. She was more than delighted to see her dark head bent close to Jeb's golden one, deep in conference. They looked good together, she thought. Glitch and Raw agreed, too. She couldn't put her finger on the exact reason why, except for the fact that they just seemed _right_. There was a sense of fate that hovered over them.

More than once, she wondered just what had transpired out there in the desert. Az hadn't been forthcoming and Glitch and Raw had had glimpses, nothing more.

Oh well. There was something there and she was determined to see it blossom. DG nodded decisively. "Just wait, you two," she murmured.

"What was that, DG?"

"Oh, Cain!" She'd forgotten he was there for a moment. That was odd, since she was usually hyperaware of him. His mere presence made her go all prickly inside. "They look good together, don't they?" she asked, making up her mind. Jeb was Cain's son, so he deserved to know what was going on.

His brow furrowed. "Who?"

"Guess."

The ex-Tin Man frowned. "I don't do games, DG. Spit it out."

"You're no fun, you know that?" She gestured down to where Az and Jeb were still talking. "Who do you think?"

"Jeb and Azkadellia?"

It was DG's turn to frown at the incredulity in his tone. "Hey, that better not be a slight on my sister," she warned. "Anyone would be lucky to have her. She's smart, loyal, beautiful-"

Wyatt raised a hand, interrupting her litany. "You don't have to sing Azkadellia's graces to me, DG. I know her, too. But _Jeb_?" He looked bewildered. "The age difference-"

"Means jack and you know it," DG said stubbornly. "They're better for each other than you know. Glitch and Raw said-"

"Hold on, how do Glitch and Raw know about this?" He tried not to feel put out at being left in the dark. He wasn't that oblivious…was he?

"They saw it happen, Cain. Something started for them, out there in the desert. And now it's my job to…help it along."

Wyatt looked at her, alarmed. Once DG got an idea in her head, she was like a terrier. She never let it go. "Don't you have better things to do than mess around with your sister's love life?" he questioned. "Don't you have your own love life to think about?" He nearly kicked himself when he realized just what had flown out of his mouth.

The princess scowled darkly. "I'd much rather think about Az's love life than my own, thanks. If I have to play nice to another toadying son of a noble, I'm going to go Bruce Lee on someone's behind, propriety be damned."

As usual, her Other Side reference sailed right over his head. But for once, Wyatt had to agree. He didn't want to think about DG's so-called love life any more than she did. She attracted young, fresh-faced boys in the same way that a flower attracted bees. He hated seeing DG with those bastards. They didn't deserve her, he thought. They had no idea what kind of woman she was, and the kind of things she'd done to save the O.Z. They couldn't know her if they tried, not in the way that he knew her. They couldn't even begin to comprehend the full measure of the woman who lay behind that pretty face.

But _he_ knewthat woman, and that was his downfall.

There were only so many times a person could give his heart away, he thought with grim amusement. Between Adora, Jeb, and the O.Z., he'd thought there was nothing left to give. Then the insanity of being trapped in that iron prison for eight years and being forced to watch his family's torture again and again, believing that they had died…a part of him had died as well. No softer emotions remained: cold, critical analysis and levelheaded logic prevailed.

But then he'd stumbled out of that nightmare, and the first thing he'd seen were eyes as clear and blue as Finaqua's lake. And part of him began to heal.

It was everything about her. DG, with her strength, her vivacity, her _life _that permeated the darkness of the O.Z. This woman, who carried such childlike innocence in her eyes yet hid secrets as dark as any of his in layers of magic and dreams.

Even when he began to feel those first twinges, the stumbling, uncoordinated beginnings of emotion, he'd pushed them to the background. He had nothing to offer her except his undying loyalty and his promise to protect her. She didn't need any more from him, of that he was certain. What could she possibly want with the worn-out heart of a man who was old enough to be her father? She had her whole life ahead of her and there was no way that he would allow himself to hold her back.

Wyatt shifted uncomfortably and sighed. He was a glutton for punishment. Why else would he continue to hang around her? As he returned ever so slowly to the present, he could only hope that Jeb and Azkadellia had better luck, if there really was something going on between them.

"Come on!" DG called. "Let's go down and see what they're doing!"

Az and Jeb looked up as sister and father descended upon them. "Deeg!" Az exclaimed, grinning broadly. "What brings you here?"

"Just exercising Popsicle and Nick. We wanted to see what you were up to."

Jeb's eyes lit up. "You've come at the right time!" He turned to his father, his excitement palpable. "Bo says he's perfected his mounted archery technique. We were just about to test it." He nodded out towards the practice field where Jem was overseeing the set-up of the course. Several trainees were ranged around an oblong, well-worn path in the grass; each carrying a hand target made of woven straw and painted with a red circle.

"Archery?" the older Cain echoed, arching a skeptical eyebrow.

"Bo's a genius with the arrow!" Az said before Jeb could reply. "We thought it would be best to encourage training with weapons the trainees are already comfortable with on top of general weapons training." She smiled charmingly at the elder Cain. "Of course, everyone is equipped with their firearm of choice." Wyatt grunted.

"Besides, Bo uses a composite bow," Jeb continued. "The arrows it shoots can punch through armor just like any bullet, and he's fast. Thirteen arrows in sixteen seconds."

DG whistled admiringly as Jem rode up. "Course is set up. They're ready when you are." He bowed slightly in DG's direction and saluted at Wyatt. "Your Highness. Commander." Wyatt acknowledged the salute with an answering one and DG favored the lieutenant with a sunny smile.

It was then that she noticed that Jeb, Jem, and Az were garbed in the same manner as the trainees. It looked like the palace seamstresses had finally come through with uniforms for the Riders. Forest green tunics were worn over white blouses and dark brown breeches were tucked into brown riding boots. A device over the right breast of the tunic caught her eye. It was a green horse rearing on a white field with a gold border. Both Az and Jem sported a single gold stripe embroidered into their collars while Jeb boasted two, indicating their higher rank within the Riders. They all wore light hooded cloaks in mottled green and brown to combat the crisp, cool air of late autumn.

"Well, don't you guys look all spiffy and cohesive," she whispered to Az, motioning towards her uniform. Her older sister smiled and fingered her collar.

"All right!" Jeb shouted. "On my signal! Trainees ready…GO!"

Bo kneed Starlight into a fast canter. The serene, easygoing man that everyone knew was gone. His dreamy eyes were sharp and focused as he gathered a handful of arrows into his bow hand. He rose smoothly in the saddle, his legs gripping the mare's side for dear life. The first trainee ran at him, throwing his target into the air with a shout. In a move almost too fast to see, Bo strung an arrow, sighted, and loosed. No sooner had he done so then another trainee rushed him from another angle, tossing her target in the air as well.

Az surveyed the scene with pride. It had taken quite a bit of planning to set up and ready the trainees for the mounted weapons course. Many of the trainees had to lever themselves up in the saddle to obtain the proper range of motion, and they didn't have the benefit of stirrups. Luckily, Vedu war saddles were designed with mounted weaponry in mind. Specially-shaped indentations on the front of each saddle provided the perfect place with which to slide one's knees in order to rise up. It took a great deal of strength to maintain that kind of position, so the trainees had to train their leg muscles to the point that they could hold themselves up for a long period of time. She winced, remembering torturous mornings spent doing countless squats and performing special weight exercises with a hexagonal bar.

The lessons didn't end there. Once the trainees had the strength to lift themselves out of the saddle, they still had to adjust to the galloping motion of their steed. Shots with a bow and arrow, firearm, or spear had to be timed to the moment when all four of the horse's hooves were off the ground. This allowed for a steady, perfectly aimed shot that could be fired from a variety of directions. Bo demonstrated this by swiveling his hips as far to the left as he could go, hitting a target that was directly behind him.

By the time Bo finished riding the circuit, all of the targets were on the ground, arrows pierced through the red.

"Holy _crap!_" DG exclaimed, clapping just as loudly as the exuberant trainees on the sidelines. "_That _was freaking awesome!"

Bo glanced up and realized that his audience had grown. He bowed deeply to DG and saluted Cain from Starlight's saddle, smiling sheepishly.

"Next!" Jem roared.

"Aw, come on Lieutenant!" Dunstan called good-naturedly from the fence. "How d'ye expect anyone to follow _that _performance?" Bo gave his old friend a withering look.

"If you're implying that I'm trying to show off, Dunstan-" The shy man was quickly distracted as Sula came up beside him on Desertflower. She fisted her hand in his tunic and yanked him forward, kissing him quickly and thoroughly.

"Good job, lover," she said with a saucy wink as she released him. Bo blushed as the other trainees hooted and hollered in amusement. Az and DG giggled behind their hands as Jeb, Wyatt, and Jem exchanged good-natured looks.

Anka bit her lip as the other trainees chattered amongst themselves. No one had stepped up to the course just yet. Dunstan was right in his estimation of Bo's ability and the reticence of the trainees to follow his perfect example. Anka herself had often gone out on the hunt with her father and eldest brother, as there were no other males among her siblings. Her shot was good enough, and Bo had been kind enough to train with her for these exercises. She wanted to know just how well she could do.

Her decision made, she headed straight for the start of the course, taking advantage of the opportunity before her.

Windy, of course, was the first one to notice. "Go, Anka!" her friend called. The trainees on the ground quickly reset the course.

Anka closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She heard Summersong whicker softly, as though she was encouraging her rider. She could hear Bo's voice in her head, his drawl low and comforting. "Steady now. All that matters in the world are you, your horse, and the targets. You've got all the time in the world."

Her eyes flew open. She almost did not need to give the signal to Summersong – it was as though the mare had anticipated that exact moment. Time seemed to slow. Her focus was razor sharp. All she knew was Summersong's steady stride, the quick, even beat of her heart, and the colorful targets as they passed before her eyes. And while she did not have Bo's 100% accuracy, she managed to hit all of her targets.

Az gave the girl a pleased nod, causing Anka to beam brightly. The Horsemistress' approval had come to mean quite a lot to her. Windy slapped her on the back enthusiastically, while Bo gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. With Anka's example before them, the rest of the trainees who had professed a liking to the bow and arrow followed suit, no longer intimidated by Bo's try.

"Windy, knives!" Jem called out next.

"Knives?" DG repeated, fascinated.

"Windy's as good with knives as Bo is with archery," Az explained. "We've outfitted him with all kinds of hidden sheaths and stuff. Luckily, he's the only one who's that good."

The black-haired youth winked cheekily at Bo and his sister as he approached the start of the course. He held no knives in his hands. When Jeb gave him the signal, he sprang into action. Knives appeared when he triggered catches in his sleeves and reached for hidden sheaths tucked into his pants and his boots. Every target sported a knife in the red when he was finished.

Anka rolled her eyes as Windy all but swaggered back. "Show-off," she teased gently.

"Aw, you're just jealous, Anka."

"Oh yes, she's so envious. Everyone wants to be a potential human pincushion," Sula commented acidly, her eyes twinkling with good humor. Her little brother had an ego that was as swollen as one of the Prince Consort's balloons. It was a good thing he had her around to keep him humble. "It's a miracle that you don't stab yourself with those things, clumsy as you are."

Windy deflated as the others around him laughed. "Sula!"

"Well done," Wyatt commented, ignoring the hilarity that was going on at the sidelines. He glanced at his son. "I'd like to see some good old-fashioned marksmanship, though."

Jeb grinned. "You got it." He nodded to Jem.

"GUNS COURSE!" the lieutenant bellowed.

The trainees who'd been throwing the targets instantly ran from the field, many of them springing onto their mounts and retrieving their firearms.

It was no surprise to the assembled crowd that Micah somehow fought her way to the head of the queue. The redhead spun a gleaming pistol in each hand with practiced skill and ease, her eyes sparkling with confidence.

Az flicked her fingers and the targets rose in the air. Several trainees visibly flinched at this rare show of power. There were still many that were not convinced that the Horsemistress was entirely on their side.

"Good idea," DG said with approval, deliberately ignoring the trainees' reactions. "I don't care how good any of them are with a gun – someone's bound to get shot in the ass or something, throwing those targets around."

Jeb's lips twitched. Jem had said something along those lines when they'd started planning the guns course. Sometimes they both thought that they should do the guns course the same way they did the other mounted weapons, if only to show the trainees how much safer it was to let Az control the targets by magic. "GO!"

Proudflame broke into a gallop. Az sent the first target spinning towards Micah. The woman cocked a pistol, aimed, and fired. The following targets were launched in quick succession and they were all dispatched with equal skill.

"She's a regular Annie Oakley!" DG marveled. She caught everyone's confused look and explained. "She was a famous cowgirl back on the other side. I think her sidearm of choice was a rifle, though."

"Say no more," Jeb laughed as Sula rode up next, her rifle resting across her lap.

DG brightened and turned to her sister. "Can I have a go at those targets?"

Az smiled fondly. "Have at it."

The younger princess frowned with concentration and flicked her fingers experimentally. The targets rose into the air. "Cool."

* * *

**As always, please let me know what you think! **Reviews always make my day. =D


	18. In the Garden

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: Hess' "Ladies in Lavender" as played by Joshua Bell, for the latter half of the chapter

* * *

Azkadellia sat back in her chair with a stifled groan, stretching her cramped, ink-stained fingers. Every available surface of the heavy oak table before her was covered with heavy, dusty tomes and sheaves of hastily scribbled notes. Even more books were piled on the chairs around her, just waiting to be opened. Before her was a repository of every school of military thinking that the O.Z. had to offer, going back hundreds and hundreds of years. However, since this was the Royal Library, her subject was not confined to Outer Zone theorists and historians. No, there were treatises and histories from Ev, Fliaan, Quox, Wonderland, and beyond. The O.Z. had always treasured knowledge and learning above all else.

Even the witch's reign had been unable to change that. Az shifted uncomfortably. Her mind protested the thought of reading more dry text, but she had to keep herself occupied. Even now, the witch's voice and memories flickered at the edges of her consciousness, volatile and potent. Rider training was both a boon and a blessing to her. On one hand, she loved what she was doing. She was working for a better, brighter future for the O.Z. But she could never forget that she was also atoning for her sins.

She sighed. The trainees would never let her forget, either. By now, most of them had gotten used to her and cautiously accepted her. Strong, silent Dunstan and his cousins were among them. There were a few like Micah, who made it clear that she had a very long way to go before she could ever earn their trust or respect. But it was the tiny, tiny minority – Bo, Sula, Windy, Anka, and Jem, who truly surprised her. It was astonishing, but she felt as though she could count them as friends. Jem, Bo, Sula, Windy, and Anka often made a point of defending her against the other trainees. She was incredibly grateful for their loyalty, though she often wondered what she'd done to deserve such good will from them in the first place.

A memory from the very first week of training surfaced in her mind.

* * *

_Az patrolled each stall in the Riders' stable, overseeing the grooming with a discerning eye. She held true to her promise – no Vedu horse would suffer from inferior treatment here, not while she was Horsemistress. She would not hesitate to let someone know that they were neglecting their horse._

"_Trainee, you're neglecting your hoof pick," she said to a young man. "Please be more thorough when cleaning your horse's hooves."_

_There was no response or change in grooming. The trainee kept on brushing. Perhaps he hadn't heard her. "Trainee, you are neglecting your hoof pick," she said in a louder voice, stepping forward. "Please correct this."_

_The trainees on either side glanced at her and sniggered. There was still no change. She frowned. There was no way that he could have missed her that time. That could only mean that he was ignoring her. "Trainee-"_

_The trainee spoke up then. "Do you hear something?" he asked the open air. "It's kind of like a fly buzzing."_

"_Maybe you should swat it and make it go away," someone suggested. There were a few muffled guffaws._

_Az's hands clenched involuntarily. She glanced at the slate on the stall door. "Trainee Marx, there is no need to be rude," she said quietly. "All I ask is that you groom your horse properly."_

_The trainee turned to look at her now. The level of hatred in his eyes should have made her flinch away. A few days ago, she would have. The strength of her conviction kept her gaze trained on his. "What if I don't want to do what you ask?"_

"_I will-"_

_The trainee advanced on her, his eyes glittering. "Yes, what are you going to do about it, witch?"_

_There was precious little she could do, Azkadellia realized in the ensuing silence. She could not go to Jeb because that would dispel the notion that she had any real authority on her own. This altercation was rapidly spiraling downwards towards the physical, and there was only one solution to that, one she could not and would not do._

_However, the fact remained that she had to do something. His mount was at stake here – _

_And suddenly, everything became clear. There was one area where her authority super-ceded even Jeb's. Her violet gaze cleared and focused. "If you do not endeavor to take better care of your mount, I will have no choice but to confiscate it until further notice. Furthermore, I will also reserve the right to prevent you from picking another mount so that this cycle cannot be repeated."_

_The trainee stopped, his face draining in light of her clinical speech. "You…you can't do that! I'll…I'll go to Commander Cain!"_

"_In the area of horses, my authority is superior to that of the commander. There is nothing he can do," she said dispassionately. The only outward indication of her nerves was the trembling of her fingers – but luckily no one was looking at her hands._

_Trainee Marx's face turned puce. "I'm a Rider! I can't do anything without my horse!"_

"_You should have realized that before this situation came up," she replied, becoming more confident. "It was implicitly stated at the very beginning that trainees are to treat their mounts with the utmost care. You knew that shoddy treatment was not acceptable and would result in severe disciplinary action."_

"_You can't take him away from me!" the trainee shouted, desperate now. He turned back to his horse and blocked the stall door._

_Az quirked an eyebrow. "Oh? Dustcloud!" She snapped out an order in Vedu, her tongue curling around a sequence of vowels and consonants that any citizen outside the Great Desert would have been hard pressed to replicate. The stallion complied, shouldering past his rider and making his way to her._

"_Dustcloud, stop!" the trainee shouted, to no avail. "What the hell did you do?"_

"_I have simply exerted my authority as Horsemistress." There was no need to let the trainees know that as the Horsemistress, she was in charge of several commands that gave her authority over the horses that surpassed their bonds with their riders. Every squad leader among the border guards was taught those commands._

"_Give him back!" Trainee Marx threatened, his eyes bright with anger as he approached the princess._

"_No. You have disobeyed a direct order from a commanding officer and ignored the rules laid down by the Riders."_

"_I said-" He drew back a fist._

"_TRAINEE MARX, YOU WILL BELAY THIS!" Jem roared from behind Azkadellia. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end at the force of his shout. The observing trainees quickly turned back to their own mounts and began brushing vigorously. Trainee Marx turned ashen. "If the Horsemistress has seen fit to remove your mount, then you accept it and work to correct your error."_

"_But-" The trainee was almost in tears at this point. Az realized that he was only a little older than Windy and Anka._

"_No more words out of you, trainee! Any more and I'll call it insubordination! In the meantime, you're assigned to stable duty until the grooms and the Horsemistress are satisfied with your performance. You're dismissed." As the cowed yet sullen trainee stormed away, the lieutenant cast a beady eye on the rest of the trainees. "As for the rest of you…if the Horsemistress tells you to do something, you better damn well do it, AM I UNDERSTOOD?"_

"_Yes, sir!"_

_Jem nodded, satisfied. "Carry on." With that, he strode out of the stables._

_Az blinked. What on earth had just happened? "Lieutenant Switzer!" she called, hurrying after him. "Please, I have to thank you-"_

_The black-haired man shook his head. "There's no need to thank me, Horsemistress," he said gruffly. "You've been working just as hard, if not harder, than Jeb and me. You are more than worthy of anyone's respect…and trust." He nodded politely and walked away.

* * *

_

That was not the first incident where Az had been challenged, nor would it be the last. But she was no longer alone in facing them.

Her thoughts drifted to Jeb, as they inevitably did in situations like these. Jeb Cain somehow stood apart from the others. Az found it impossible to define what he was to her. As Horsemistress, he was her commanding officer. As a princess of the O.Z., he was her subject. When they exercised Strongwind and Freeheart in the mornings, they were equals. When they confided in one another, they were friends.

However, there was more, so much more, to the younger Cain than that. There was no role that could be assigned to him that described the feelings he elicited in her heart whenever she was in his company. It was impossible enough to describe the feelings themselves. In Jeb Cain Az felt comfort, joy, trust, and so much more. She looked to him in the way that she looked to her family for support, an opinion, and for general goodwill. If it had been any other person, she would have declared her feelings as love, but because it was Jeb, she did not. She hadn't lied when she told DG that there was nothing but friendship between them. She tried to believe it with all of her heart.

Still, she never forgot what Raw told her in the desert. _Azkadee heart beat for someone else_. Her thoughts often circled back to that statement, and now she began to wonder with increasing regularity if he meant Jeb. But Raw couldn't be so cruel. Why would he tell her that her heart belonged to Jeb if she could never allow herself to give it to him? Az had been a little more open with the Viewer after their trip to the desert, so she knew that he was aware of her reasons for her refusal to entertain romantic relationships. He never pressed the subject if it came up, but that didn't stop her thoughts from running in that direction every once in a while.

It didn't help that her pesky hormones continually reminded her that Jeb was an attractive specimen of manliness. She learned to keep those kinds of thoughts squarely hidden away where they were less embarrassing.

She felt like raging – at DG, at Raw, at her traitorous thoughts and body. They made her think her of things better left alone. She'd resigned herself to the fact that she would be alone for the rest of her life, but for her family and friends. She knew that love – the romantic, all-consuming passion that poets waxed on and lovers risked their lives for – was not in her future. That did not meant that she liked to be reminded just how lonely that prospect was. Each time Jeb was brought up, an alternate and altogether impossible future was mapped out before her. It was like rubbing salt into a wound. She didn't want to tear herself to pieces over something she could never have.

It was so _difficult _to be practical.

The creaking of the heavy library doors jolted Az out of her reverie. There was a staccato _tap-tap-tap _of boots on the floor and much rustling. "I just need time to think, that's all. Just a few minutes so that I can figure things out," a familiar voice muttered.

Az raised her eyebrows at her sister's voice. In an effort to be more hands on with reconstruction, her mother, father, sister, and Glitch had been splitting their time between the Northern Palace and Central City to work with the House of Lords and the newly established House of Commons (DG's idea) to enforce cooperation and encourage work_. _Sessions with advisors and the legislative houses was often grueling. She hadn't expected her family back from Central for at least another day.

The doors opened again, and the footsteps this time were a lot surer and much heavier. There was a small scuffle and Az got to her feet, her curiosity piqued. "God damn it Cain, you scared me!" DG sounded pissed – an Other Side word Az had become familiar with in the advent of her sister's return. "What part of leave me alone do you not understand?"

"DG." Az could see the scene in her mind's eye, the way he would shift his weight back on his heels and pierce his partner with a searching, all-too blue gaze. "You wanna tell me what's going on?"

"Actually, no. If I wanted to tell you something, I would have told you. Can I go now?" She could only imagine that her sister was turning dull red with exasperation. "Cain! Get out of my way!"

"Nuh-uh. You've been acting really strange for the past few days, sweetheart. You think I haven't noticed the circles beneath your eyes? You almost fell asleep during that meeting with Councilor Markham."

"Councilor Markham is a bore, of course I was falling asleep!" Az trailed soundlessly from aisle to aisle, straining to hear. Who knew Rider training would come in so handy?

Wyatt apparently ignored what DG said. His voice lowered, a dangerous edge sneaking into it – steel beneath velvet. "Did something happen? Did someone threaten you?"

"No! You've got the wrong idea!"

"Well, give me the right one then, princess!"

Az nearly jumped out of her skin when a hand landed on her shoulder. "Az?" Jeb inquired. "What-"

She didn't even think. She clamped one hand over his mouth and pushed him against the nearest bookshelf. "Shhh!" she hissed. The whole ridiculously entertaining conversation would be over if DG or Cain knew someone was eavesdropping.

Luckily, the duo appeared to be oblivious. "Fine!" DG said, disgusted. Az could just imagine her throwing her hands up in defeat. "You asked for it." She took a deep breath. "I had a dream about you last night but don't go thinking it's anything special because it wasn't, so drop it okay?" That last sentence had come out as a veritable torrent of words.

One could have heard a pin drop in the ensuing silence. "You had a dream? About me?"

"I said _drop it_," was the growled reply.

"Good or bad?" Was that a hint of amusement in Wyatt's voice? Before Az could ponder it further, she heard the sound of a large body hitting the shelves and the continued clicking of her sister's boots.

"Bad. Definitely bad," DG muttered as she stalked past Jeb and Az's hiding place. Eventually, Wyatt's slower and more thoughtful gait followed.

Az jammed her fist in her mouth to stop the giggles. It was so awful, to laugh at her sister's obvious embarrassment. But from DG's tone of voice, the dream had been the exact opposite of bad – and wasn't that wonderful? Between Rider training and her family's trips to Central, she hadn't been able to do any matchmaking, but it seemed like everything was falling into place quite nicely.

"Az? You can let me up now."

Violet eyes widened as she realized just what kind of position she was in, kicking her hormones into high gear. Every nerve in her body seemed attuned to the slightest touch of her body against his. Her mind raced, cataloguing every sensation. The softness of his lips against the palm of her hand. The slight tickling of his breath as he exhaled. The sharp, clean masculine aroma that surrounded her. The wiry hardness of the body trapped between her and the bookshelf. But most of all, the keen regard of that all-too bright and knowing cobalt gaze.

Az all but launched herself in the opposite direction, her face flaming. "Jeb! I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking!" she blurted.

Jeb ran a hand through his curls, a boyish smirk turning the corners of his mouth upward in a way that did nothing to assuage the pounding of her heart. He nodded towards the door where DG and his father had exited. "What was that all about?"

"I'm not sure, but whatever it means, I'm all for it." She pounced on the change in subject eagerly. "They look wonderful together."

His gaze turned thoughtful. "Do they?"

She realized just whom she was talking to. "Jeb, I'm sorry. That was insensitive of me. I meant nothing by it-"

"Don't worry about it." Jeb leaned back against the bookshelf. "Mother would have wanted him to be happy. If DG makes him happy, then so be it." He shrugged. "I'll admit that it's a little strange, since she's about my age, but…"

"You wished to see me?" she said quickly, eager to distract him.

The blond looked startled for a moment. "Yes, yes I did." He offered his arm. "Would you like to take a walk with me in the gardens?"

"I would be happy to." She pointedly ignored the warm flush the spread through her stomach at such a prospect, once again cursing her body's reaction to his presence.

The Royal Gardens at the Northern Palace were a different sort of garden than the formal, geometric layout of the Royal Gardens at the palace in Central City with their neatly trimmed hedgerows, ruthlessly organized flowerbeds, and fanciful topiary trees. Nor were they as rough as the sprawling maze, forests, and freely flowering meadows at Finaqua. No, the Royal Gardens here were exquisitely in between, a small slice of paradise in the often cold and dreary North Country.

Narrow gravel paths wound around enormous shrubs that burst into bloom during the first spring rains and clung to tenacious life until the first frosts of winter. What seemed like clouds of riotous reds, whites, purples, blues, and pinks surrounded those who took to the gardens paths, covering every inch of ground from the palace walls to the lake's shore, their hues reflected in the clear blue water. Azaleas, rhododendrons, magnolias, lilies, and hydrangeas bloomed exuberantly, their rich, heady scents perfuming the air.

The gardens had always been Az's favorite part of the palace complex. When she was younger, her insatiable curiosity brought her there as often as she went to the library. She smiled, remembering one particular study session when she'd dragged Glitch out there and refused to let him leave until he'd told her the name of every tree, shrub, and flower.

"That's a nostalgic smile," Jeb commented, glancing down at her.

"Just…remembering more innocent times," she replied.

Despite himself, a bitter half-smile curved over his lips. He barely remembered such times. He'd lost his innocence the moment he'd been forced to watch his father's torture and imprisonment. "That must be nice," he murmured, momentarily lost in memories of the past.

Guilt was Azkadellia's constant companion these days, so it was hardly unexpected when a wave of the emotion swamped her. She couldn't help but feel responsible for the sadness in Jeb's eyes. She was part of the reason why his childhood had been cut so short. "I'm sorry," she murmured, her face burning with shame.

It was a complete surprise when his strong hands curled about her shoulders, forcing her to look up at him. "Az, you have _nothing _to be sorry for," Jeb said severely. "_Never _apologize to me, do you understand?"

She stared at him, completely flabbergasted at his anger.

Jeb felt Az go rigid beneath his grip, her eyes going wide. He cursed himself to the Thursk Desert and back for letting his demons force her own to the forefront. He was supposed to help her, not hinder her. It also infuriated him that she continued to apologize for events that were beyond her control, events that she had no part in. He had forgiven her long ago. All she needed to do now was forgive herself. She owed nothing to anyone, especially when she had given so much to the Riders. To him. He wished desperately for a way to tell her, but the words escaped him.

He dropped his hands from her shoulders, realizing for the first time how tightly he held her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

Now it was Az's turn to stop him. She put a finger to his lips without thinking. "To use your own words, never apologize to me, Jeb." She smiled sweetly and his heart constricted in his chest. "You're right. I…I have a lot to be proud of, don't I?"

"You do," he agreed as they resumed their walk. "But we're not here to talk about Rider business."

"We're not?"

His smile was crooked. He plucked an azalea from a nearby bush and began twirling it between his fingers. "I think it's taken enough of our time, don't you? We've been living and breathing the Riders for the past few weeks. There's more to life."

"Yes, I suppose there is."

They walked in silence for a while. "So…" Jeb drew out a breath. "My father and DG, huh? I never would have guessed it – they fight all the time."

"Isn't that what love is?" she teased.

He shook his head. "Nah," was the serious reply. "Sometimes love comes softly." He placed the blossom behind her ear, enjoying the contrast between the pink petals and the darkness of her hair.

Her heart fluttered in her chest before she got herself under control, even though she was inordinately pleased by the simple gesture. She fought the urge to touch her hair. "That's very poetic, Jeb."

"I'm not a poetic man," he replied seriously. He could not deliver a flowery line any more than his father could. That was a peculiar taciturnity that was inherent in all Cain men. "I just like to call things for what they are." He coughed, somewhat embarrassed by his action. "Have you been sleeping well?"

Az rubbed a finger over one of the larger scars on her palm. "As well as anyone else, I suppose. I get by. Some nights I'm so tired from training that I sleep without dreams."

"And other nights?"

"Other nights it's best that I stay awake." She frowned. "Can we not talk about this?"

"I think we should." He moved into her path. "You've been working yourself to death for the Riders. It's an admirable thing, but not when you're using it as an excuse to run away from your issues. Raw says you still haven't talked to him about...her."

She stared at him, stung. "You talked to Raw about me?"

"Yes, perhaps I mentioned it once or twice." His statement was bald and unapologetic in the crisp afternoon air. "I'm concerned about you, Az."

Few people outside of the royal family knew that Azkadellia could be as mulishly stubborn as DG. It was a trait that all Gale women shared. Her eyes flashed. "Well, you can just keep your concern to yourself," she said regally, drawing coolness around her like a cloak. She _hated _it when people fussed over her. "I'm fine."

"Could've fooled me." Jeb stepped smoothly to the side when she would have brushed past him. Her eyes narrowed, as if to ask as though he dared to stop her.

For the first time, he fought back the urge not be intimidated by the woman in front of him. He hadn't seen her pull a royal act like that since they left the desert. It was oddly refreshing. "You just admitted to me that you're not sleeping. How can I not be concerned? Ah-ah." He lifted a hand as she protested. "Obviously you meant something by it by telling me."

The older princess cursed the looseness of her tongue. She hadn't _meant _to tell Jeb that she wasn't sleeping, it had just come out. Even DG wasn't privy to that kernel of information. "Perhaps I did, perhaps I didn't," was the stout reply. "Make of it what you will."

"Oh, I intend to. I don't understand why you're not talking to anyone about this, Az. We've been back from the desert for weeks now and there's still no change. Haven't you listened to a thing I said about forgiving yourself? About sharing the burden?"

"Forgiveness is hard, you said so yourself." She could not bring herself to meet his gaze. "And everyone's been so busy lately with reconstruction and the Riders. There hasn't been any time-"

"That's bull and you know it, Az. What, you think that those who care for you wouldn't have the time to talk to you? Why haven't you talked to me, at least?" he demanded. "I've seen you nearly every day since we got back."

"I've imposed on you enough-"

"Lurline's veil, woman!" He just barely repressed the urge to grab her and shake her. "Impose on me!" He tilted her chin up with gentle fingers, his voice going soft. "Don't you think that I can understand you a little? I had a prison and I have my own burdens to bear, too. I've killed a lot of people, Az. I have a list and I dream about them every night. I tell myself that their deaths are justified, but the fact remains that I have blood on my hands. The only thing I can do is work for redemption in the only way I know how."

"How?" Az asked.

"By keeping the O.Z. safe," he said. "Like what we're doing now, with the Riders."

She shook her head. "It's not enough."

"Who are you to say what's enough?" he said roughly. "You're working for a better future, Az. Let that be enough. Repaying blood with blood isn't always the right way to go about things." He released her and stepped back. "Think about it, all right?"

Az winced and stopped rubbing at her scars. "How is it that you seem to know me so well, Jeb?" she asked tiredly.

"Shared experiences will do that," he said quietly. "It makes you feel like you're the only people in the world who have ever felt this way and no one can ever feel the same."

"And yet you do feel the same way." She smiled up at him. "It feels…peaceful. Like I'm not alone."

Some strange feeling bubbled up inside of him, tying his stomach in knots. "No, you're not." A corner of his mind whispered that she never would be, if he had anything to say about it.

Out of nowhere came a little ball of light. Az caught it in her palm as it turned blue. Jeb let out a sigh of relief. He was grateful for the interruption. His feelings were just a little too intense for his liking. "Az?" DG's voice was clear. "Is Jeb with you? Jem said that he went off to find you earlier."

"He's here, Deeg. Do you need him?"

"I need both of you." There was a wealth of amusement in her younger sister's voice. "You'd better get down here before all hell breaks loose between the trainees and Fifth Company."

Jeb raised an eyebrow. The Fifth Company of the Royal Army was currently marching north to relieve Eighth Company at Ugabu and were staying for the night. "What happened?"

"Oh, not much." DG snickered. In the background, one could just make out Jem's distinctive bellow. "I just foresee the beginning of a prank war between the Queen's Riders and the Royal Army."

The commander's sigh was long-suffering. "We're on our way – but give me an idea of what we're dealing with, all right?"

"A bet, a race, several badly cinched saddles, mud, and dress uniforms."

He raised his eyes to the heavens. "Lurline, give me strength."

Az giggled. As they made their way to the stables, she allowed herself a moment to flutter over the flower in her hair, her fingers ghosting over the delicate blush-pink petals.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think!**

This is definitely one of my favorite chapters, to date. I'm pretty sure that I've said this of other chapters, but this one in particular has a place in my heart. The gardens are based on Leonardslee Gardens in West Sussex, England. I suggest Googling the gardens because they're so gorgeous. If I had a green thumb (as opposed to two black ones), that's the kind of garden I'd love to have. Much thanks again to MatsuMama for being such a wonderful beta.**  
**


	19. Tea With the Gales

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: Hess' "Ladies in Lavender Fantasy" as played by Joshua Bell. I love how appropriate the title is.

* * *

High tea with her family was always a welcome event. It was a haven of peace and tranquility in an otherwise noisy and crowded afternoon of activities, meetings, and training sessions. Her mother's solarium was always bright and overflowing with flowers. The good china and silver were taken out. The cooks outdid themselves with dainty pastries and sandwiches. DG would even wear a skirt, sometimes.

"How is the household transition coming along, Mother?" Az asked, deliberating between a delicate berry tart and a lemon cream puff.

Queen Lavender's eyes crinkled in amusement. "Hedy is cursing everyone to the high heavens. I do believe she fired all the maids twice within the past day."

"Which means she's got everything in hand," DG snickered. She had foregone a skirt today, instead choosing a pair of burgundy velvet trousers, a pale pink blouse, and a cream vest. There was no doubt that the outfit would be sporting a stain, rip, missing button, or a combination of all three by the end of the day. "Hedy should have been a general in the army. She'd whip everyone into shape in no time."

"Don't you think the thought hasn't crossed our minds?" Ahamo teased, grinning at his daughters. Even Wyatt Cain reserved a healthy respect for the sixty-three year old female chamberlain. "But they're all too terrified of her. In any case, we'll be ready to leave for Central the day after tomorrow." The majority of the household was relocating to the Royal Palace in Central City for the winter season. A skeleton staff would be left to maintain the Northern Palace for the family's return in the spring.

Az nodded absently, biting into the berry tart and savoring the way the tart flavors exploded in her mouth. That seemed reasonable. "We'll be leaving for field training soon after, as well."

Lavender exchanged glances with her consort and slowly lowered her cup. "Yes, my dear. You will be leaving with the Riders for training. But I have changed the venue."

Az frowned. "From the Great Gillikin? But you said that we would be allotted use of the forest-"

"I did say that, my dear, but I never imagined that you would be doing field training during the winter!" She shook her head. "It is too cold and too dangerous, my dear. Ambrose has informed me that a blizzard is on the way."

"But the Riders will need to know how to deal with winter conditions anyway, Mother! We've given them the basics, and they can have firsthand experience now before they are truly out in the field."

"She's right, Mother," DG agreed, taking her sister's side. "Every Rider group will need to know how to get along in the snow. Even Lake Country gets some snow during the winter."

"We have considered all of this, girls," Ahamo said gently. "Your mother and I can see your logic. But we cannot allow untrained Riders and you – especially you, Azkadellia, to go tramping around the Great Gillikin during a blizzard. It's too dangerous. Whatever bandits and renegade Longcoats that have made their homes there have surely doubled. We cannot take chances with any of your lives, not when we need you all too much."

"But we're _meant _to deal with the bandits and Longcoats!" Az argued. "And Sixth Company will be with us!"

"Will you truly be able to distinguish between friend and foe? The forest is a big place, and you have no idea where you'll end up during the exercises," Ahamo said skeptically. The Prince Consort was no stranger to fieldwork himself.

The princess suppressed a groan of frustration. She could not believe that they had chosen this moment to become particularly overprotective. This was a crucial time for the Riders and she balked at the thought of being held back – of holding _them _back because of her parents' insecurities. "But the Riders _need _this training! Without it, we'll be sending them into the field blind!"

"Darling, we never said there wouldn't be any field training. We simply said that there would be a change in location." There was a hint of rebuke in the queen's tone.

The two princesses exchanged sheepish looks at their oversight. "Where?"

For the first time, Lavender looked worried. "Finaqua."

Azkadellia nearly overturned her cup of tea. "What? No!" Her face had gone deathly pale, her violet eyes stark against the whiteness of her skin.

"It is the ideal place," Ahamo murmured. "The magical protections there have sunk deep into the ground itself. There is no safer location for you to carry out your field exercises."

"Magical protections? _What_ magical protections?" DG said incredulously. "That's where that hideous old _hag _got Az, and you call it safe?"

"For the Ancients, there was no safer place. I agree that they made a vast error in the maintenance of the wards on the cave." The queen's voice was placating, soothing. There was much that DG had forgotten in her sojourn on the Other Side. "But Finaqua has always been sacred. Generations of witches and wizards have laid their protections there since the time of the Ancients, protections that remain to this day."

"But the _witch_." All eyes turned to Azkadellia. She looked haunted. "Why would you make me go back there, Mother?" Her voice came out plaintive and terrified, the voice of a young girl.

Lavender rose from her chair and crossed to her eldest daughter. She knelt before her, taking trembling hands in hers. "Because you must face the darkness to truly purge it, my daughter," she murmured as a faint light glowed from their entwined fingers. "This is not just for the Riders. This is for you as well."

"What? N-no!" Her voice trembled and broke with anguish and panic. "I'm not ready-"

"Are we ever ready to face our demons, Azkadellia?" She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You have everything you need to truly defeat her. You know it as well as I do."

Azkadellia just bit her lip and looked away. Her mother was asking too much. It was all right – the Riders could go to Finaqua. But she could not, and would not, step foot in that cave. Some things were better left buried.

"I'm going with her," DG announced. Defiance sparkled in her cornflower blue eyes. Sending Az to Finaqua was like sending her right into the belly of the beast. There was no way that she was going to let her do it alone.

Ahamo smiled indulgently at his youngest daughter. "Indeed you will, DG. Along with Glitch and Raw."

"Glitch and Raw?" DG asked, surprised. Her fighting spirit backed down at her father's easy acquiescence. "Don't you need them at Central?"

"Call it an extra measure of protection, my dear." The Prince Consort was amused. He was proud that his daughters had inherited his free spirit and their mother's strong will, among other things, but it made being their parents somewhat trying. "And I think those two deserve some sort of break."

"Humph. Well, I suppose that's all right. Does Jeb know about this change in plans?"

"He does. Your mother ordered him to put them into effect yesterday." Ahamo picked out another tea sandwich. "Though I'm sure he hasn't informed your trainees about that change or the fact that you're already starting field training."

"He does?" Az spoke for the first time. She looked slightly put out and was sporting a pout that looked remarkably similar to DG's. "Why didn't he tell me?"

"Because I asked him not to, darling," was the simple reply. Lavender looked closely at her eldest daughter. "Are you all right now, my love?"

Az managed a wan smile. "As all right as I can be, I suppose." Her hands still trembled slightly, but she hid them in her skirts as her mother returned to her seat.

"Well, you two have your marching orders!" their father said cheerfully. "We'll see you two in Central once you finish the field exercises."

Soon after, Ahamo excused himself to attend to his duties. Azkadellia was always confused when he slipped away with do such things – the position of Prince Consort had always seemed ornamental. However, her father was always up to _something_, if the long and pointed looks he shared with her mother on a regular basis were anything to go by. DG also excused herself – reluctantly, Az observed – to attend the mandatory shooting lessons Wyatt set up for her. Az wished that she was there to observe them, especially after last week's oh-so-entertaining library incident. DG had been trying to avoid Wyatt like the plague, trying being the key word. Wyatt was just as stubborn about remaining in her company, which led to some incredibly awkward situations. Az never let on what she'd witnessed, which made the whole thing that much more comical. She often wondered who would be the first to break their stalemate.

With Ahamo and DG gone, Az was left alone with her mother, the two of them quietly sipping their tea.

Lavender looked at her oldest daughter over the rim of her teacup. Even though Azkadellia was similar to her in temperament, she had always been closer to her father. She had been independent from a very young age and had always been wise beyond her years. That sort of self-reliance had always thrown Lavender off-balance, for she had always wanted a child to cosset and fuss over. Ahamo had loved Azkadellia's self-reliance, declaring that his daughter was a true modern woman, after the suffragettes he'd been acquainted with on the Other Side. When DG was born, Lavender found that she could truly mother her, and thus turned much of her attention to her youngest, only tending to Azkadellia's tutoring and training.

The queen felt that she was equally blameworthy when it came to Azkadellia's possession. She could not help but think that if she'd paid more attention, she would have caught on to the situation much sooner. She had gotten so used to Azkadellia going her own way and had attributed her eldest's new reticence to the vagaries of puberty. Surely Ahamo would have seen the problem, but he'd been away on a long-term mission and had come back when it was too late. DG had already been killed and resurrected, and transferred to the Other Side for safe keeping. Lavender's moment of panic at DG's death and her subsequent actions had all but extinguished her Light, making the witch's overthrow much easier than it would have been otherwise.

There were times when Lavender wondered if she'd done the right thing, sacrificing her magic to bring DG back to life. At her full strength, she was more than a challenge for the witch. But she had thought that the witch had completely subsumed Azkadellia, and that there was nothing left of her eldest daughter but her shell. Everything that she had ever been taught about magical possession said that the original inhabitant of the body was destroyed in the process. There had never been any evidence to the contrary. She couldn't bear the thought of losing another daughter to the witch. There was no reason to suggest that somewhere beneath all of that evil, Azkadellia still lived. In the end, it was DG who took the chance and brought her back.

But that was all in the past. Lavender knew that her relationship with her eldest daughter had improved since the Double Eclipse. It had been, in effect, a fresh start for mother and daughter. Things had been strained at first, but they slowly grew to know each other once more. And while rebuilding kept them both busy, they tried to take the time to be simply be together. Still, the queen wondered if their new closeness allowed her to broach a subject that was sure to be very sensitive.

Lavender reminded herself that it was a mother's prerogative to pry. She cleared her throat softly. "Azkadellia, there is something I would like to ask you."

"Of course, mother." Az raised an inquiring eyebrow.

"Are you having some sort of…love affair with young Jeb Cain?"

Az stared at her mother, her face an expressionless mask. Surely she'd heard wrong? The set of her mother's face told her otherwise. The absurdity of the situation struck her and she burst out laughing and could not stop until there were tears running down her face.

The queen didn't know whether she should be gratified or vexed by her daughter's uncharacteristic display of intense emotion. She settled on a happy place in between. "I'm glad this amuses you, darling, but I find that I am not amused with this…perceived impropriety."

The wording of that statement quelled Az's merriment. Her laughter slowly subsided and she dabbed at the corners of her eyes with a silken handkerchief. "Oh mother, how exactly did this…perceived impropriety come to your attention?"

"The Grand Duchess," was the arch reply. "She happened to look outside the south parlor window and saw the two of you in the gardens. It was her impression that your relationship seemed less than professional."

"Oh." Az paled. Grand Duchess Aleydis Orin was best described as a she-dragon. She was the matriarch of one of the oldest and most powerful noble families in the O.Z. She'd been visiting relatives in Fliaan when the witch came to power, and prudently stayed there until the regime came tumbling down. Most of her time was spent rebuilding her estates in the Wend Fallows brick by brick, but she made it a point to visit the royal family quite often. She was also Az's godmother.

"Oh, indeed. I believe you had best explain yourself, dear. Be glad that it was your godmother who saw you and not some court gossip. She simply came and told me of her concerns."

The princess flushed. "Well neither of you have cause to worry. Jeb – Commander Cain – has been a great comfort to me ever since we went into the desert." She shrugged helplessly. "He is a dear friend, that is all. To say that we have anything beyond that is simply…absurd."

"Hmmm," was all her mother said. Aleydis' observation had told her quite the opposite.

"It was rather like a scene out of one of those new moving picture shows," the old woman sniffed. "If one is inclined to enjoy that sort of thing." Suddenly, she grinned. Once considered a great beauty in her youth, Aleydis was still considered very handsome now in her older age. "Now, I hope you don't disapprove if this is truly the case, Lavvy. This boy is much more suitable than those pale, sniveling blue-blooded ninnies that have been hanging around the court. Oh, I'm sure it will cause a scandal, but anything that girl does will be met with scandal, so she might as well get some happiness out of it." Her eyes narrowed. "Though don't tell the girl I said that, mind."

Lavender's lips twitched. "Of course not, Aunt Aleydis. You're supposed to be terrifying my daughters into acting properly, are you not?"

"The duty of the Orins has always been to keep the Gales in line, though I am happy to say that you and your daughters have not needed much of our brand of discipline."

"And for that I am grateful." The queen paused. "Not even DG?"

Aleydis let out a rather un-matronly snort. "Lavvy, even though I disparage the girl loudly, publicly, and to her face, I find her behavior refreshing. You know that." The Grand Duchess straightened, all business once more. "Now that we have that piece of business out of the way, let us move on. I've heard that Councilor Markham has been a particular pain in your side in this reconstruction business. As you know, I play bridge with his wife and I can slip a word or two in her ear, if you wish…"

As the conversation faded from her mind, Lavender took the time to observe her daughter. Her cheeks were still lightly stained with red, and she had the look of one who was desperately trying to convince herself of a notion. The truth of it was right there – Azkadellia loved Jeb Cain; only she would not acknowledge it. Lavender sighed inwardly. The apple truly did not fall far from the tree. She remembered all too well a time when she would not even consider the idea of loving the slipper who had come in his hot air balloon, even when all of the evidence pointed to the contrary.

"Will the Grand Duchess say anything to anyone else, Mother?" Az's voice interrupted her contemplation.

Lavender smiled softly and took her daughter's hand. "No, my dear. You know that Aunt Aleydis is no busybody who runs her mouth off to just anyone. I will tell her what you have told me and you will hear nothing of it ever again." In the meantime, she would keep a silent eye on the progress of her daughter's budding relationship. Even though the difference in their age was enough to raise an eyebrow, she knew that Jeb Cain was a good man. He would be a most exceptional son-in-law.

Az relaxed slightly, but she was dreading the next time that she would see her godmother. The Grand Duchess was _terrifying_. "Well," she said finally, deciding to change subjects. "I need to go over the proposed schedule for field training with you before you leave for Central, so…"

* * *

**Please review!**

I apologize for the lag between updates - I had family over last week and that is always crazy. I've also been very distracted by the World Cup (I'm still heartbroken over the US' loss to Ghana), which tends to take up a great deal of one's time, but it's worth it to see all those lovely footballers running around. =D Anyway, I know there isn't too much going on in this chapter, but this is one of those transition-type ones that we all have to get through that will set up the action quite nicely. There's a lot of angst to come.


	20. Finaqua Bound

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: "The Story of Grandmere," from the Chocolat soundtrack

* * *

"TRAINEES, _TURN OUT!_" Jem stood in the hallway in between the men and women's dormitories, hands on his hips as he bellowed. "We're hitting the road in an hour, so pack your field gear and saddle your horses!"

Bo poked his head out of the men's dormitory door, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. By unspoken agreement, he'd been put in charge of the men. "Pack up? Where are we going?"

Jem grinned. "Welcome to field exercises."

The door to the women's side opened. Micah, Bo's counterpart there, stood just inside the doorframe. Behind her, the female trainees were already following orders, many of them still half asleep. "An hour?" She scowled irritably. "That's not much notice, you didn't say anything to us last night."

Love or not, when Jem was in command, he was in command. He gifted the redhead with a potent frown of his own. "When you become Riders, you'll get shorter notice than this, I guarantee you." He pitched his voice over the packing. "NEXT TIME, KEEP YOUR FIELD GEAR READY TO GO AT ALL TIMES, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

"Yes, sir!"

Jem looked at Bo and Micah. "Riders pack light, understand? I expect you two to look over their packs here, but Jeb and I will also be doing inspections before we leave."

"Yes, sir!" they chorused as they turned to their tasks.

Thirty minutes later, Az rode over to the Riders' stables on Freeheart's back with DG and Popsicle at her side, wishing desperately for a mug of strong, hot _tcha_. The blizzard had come, as expected, bringing with it sharp, stinging winds and plummeting temperatures. She reminded herself to ask Glitch to come up with a spill-proof mug that kept drinks hot. Such a thing would have been perfect for a morning like this. She perked up as she caught sight of a familiar figure atop a varnish roan mare. "Good morning, Glitch! Are you ready to go?" she cried with delight.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world!" the disgustingly bright-eyed advisor replied. He wore a magnificent crimson wool cloak that was lined with fur. "I need the break. If I hear any more political talk the results are not going to be pretty."

"How can you all be so _perky _in the morning?" DG moaned from her place, slumped over Popsicle's back. "I don't _understand_." The hot _tcha _would have been useful in DG's case as well, as the younger princess was no morning person and required a strong tea to wake her up completely.

"Good morning, everyone," Jeb said, leading a saddled and packed Strongwind. "Fine weather for a ride, don't you think?"

Az glanced up at the heavy gray clouds overhead and wondered if he was joking. The ground was carpeted in snow and the clouds promised flurries, if not another full-fledged storm. The Riders would be making full use of their newly made winter gear, which consisted of warm wool and flannel garments in whites and grays, lined leather boots and gloves, and lightly waxed heavy wool cloaks that were as waterproof as they could be made. "Your father said he'd meet us at the gate with Sixth," she said.

"Good." He reached into a sack and tossed a packet at each of them. "Breakfast, courtesy of the mess."

Glitch opened his and discovered cold oatcakes studded with dried cherries. It wasn't the most appetizing breakfast, but it was filling, nutritious, and perfect for the road.

At this point the trainees began trickling down, hauling their packs down for inspection. Jeb and Jem had to send several trainees back to lighten their loads before they were satisfied enough to let the trainees saddle and load their mounts. Raw eventually joined them, bundled from head to toe in brown fur. The Viewer was also incredibly susceptible to cold.

Snow began to fall in light patches as the trainees took to the road with Cain and Sixth, heading south towards Central City. Glitch, DG, and Raw took point at the head of the train, allowing Jeb, Jem, and Az to ride up and down the double column of trainees as needed.

"Enjoy these kind of provisions while you can!" Jem yelled as he passed out the oatcakes. "Once we get into the forest, we hunt and forage! You better get used to living off the land!" The trainees knew better than to groan – or if they did so, they did so quietly. Overheard complaints usually resulted in more work.

Jeb rattled off the names of four trainees. "Scouting duty, now. I want groups of two on either side of the road." The named scouts took their mounts and melted into the snow-covered scrub. The winter cloaks were mottled gray and white, allowing for even more camouflage. The young commander watched them go with satisfaction.

Jeb's experience with the Resistance had taught him that advance scouts were essential to any military endeavor. Good scouts could notify their groups of whatever nastiness lay ahead so that they could be adequately prepared to respond. In the Resistance, groups without scouts had higher mortality rates than those with them. He had grown to appreciate and depend on them and made sure that the people in his cell knew all of the ins and outs of scouting. He'd fought for that kind of training for the Royal Army, but the old farts remained stuck in their ways. It was one of the many reasons why he wanted to form the Riders.

Now that this first crop of trainees were almost finished, Jeb could say that he had some of the best scouts in the O.Z. When he paired everything he knew with all the information he'd gleaned from Ahmet about Vedu border scout training, he'd amassed a vast repertoire of training techniques. He was confident that none of them would fail him when those lessons were put to the test.

While the commander pondered, Az let Freeheart fall back beside Anka.

"Horsemistress, do you know what we're doing for the field exercises?" she inquired, peering out from her winter cloak. She seemed to be drowning in its voluminous folds.

"Of course I know," Az replied, amused. "I had a hand in planning it."

Windy peered out from his spot at Anka's side. The two were together so often that it was jarring if they were caught apart. "Care to share, Horsemistress?"

The princess wagged her finger at the trainees. "No, I don't. There is a good reason," she continued, pitching her voice over their groans and the rushing of the wind so that the other trainees could hear. "When you're out in the field, you're going to have little time to formulate a plan. These exercises were created to help you make use of the strategy and tactics you were taught."

"Besides, I've had many a good general admit that once you get out on the battlefield everything just goes to hell anyway," Jeb added as he came up beside Windy. "That is where true tactics come in – we want you guys to be able to handle a situation once it has gone to pieces."

"This way, you'll be…somewhat prepared," Az finished.

"That makes sense," Windy admitted. Jeb patted the young man on the back and winked at Az before he fell back once more – perhaps to chat with his father. She felt her cheeks go warm.

"He's dreamy, isn't he?" Anka said to no one in particular, sighing.

Windy looked put out. "He's older than you! And he's the commander!"

"I know that, silly!" The girl rolled her eyes. "I'm being a girl, Windy, just let me be." Besides, she thought, sneaking a peek at the still-pink Azkadellia, anyone with half a brain can see that the commander's sweet on the horsemistress, and she on him.

"Right," Windy muttered.

By mid-afternoon the snow had let up, but the sky overhead remained gray and overcast. The entire party of Rider trainees and Sixth Company continued south with the intent of camping just outside Central City for the night. Though they were a large party, they moved quickly. They aimed to reach Finaqua by nightfall the next day.

Az fought back a shudder and pulled her cloak tight. Just the thought of Finaqua troubled her. She admitted to herself that it wasn't the place that disturbed her so much as the forest itself. Forests shielded caves…and _caves – _she didn't want to think about it. Ever since the Double Eclipse, she'd been uneasy travelling through forests. The air almost _heavier _there, if that was possible. They made her feel stifled and claustrophobic.

The mere thought of stepping into Finaqua Forest was terrifying. Was it not enough that she would shoulder the weight of her guilt for the rest of her life? That she worked every day to repay the debts that she owed to the citizens of the O.Z.? Could no one understand that she could not bear to come face to face with the horror had brought all of this about? She was certain that a mere glimpse of the cave would shatter her beyond repair.

"Horsemistress? Are you all right?"

She managed a wan smile, silently cursing herself. She couldn't allow the trainees to see her like this. "I'm all right, Sula." Halfway through the ride she left Anka and Windy to keep company with Bo and Sula. She felt particularly close with the black-haired woman, since they were about the same age. They even looked alike, with their jet-black hair and pale skin. The only difference was that Sula's hair was cut in a sharp bob at her chin and she was much shorter than the princess.

"You don't look all right. You look like a Eastern Guildsman who's been shoved into one of their infernal cages and hoisted above a bonfire," she said, her pale gray eyes assessing. Az also appreciated Sula's uncompromising bluntness. She was rather like DG in that way, but DG tended to be a little more…diplomatic in her delivery. Sula never pulled her punches.

"Wonderful metaphor, dear," Bo said, shooting Az a sympathetic smile.

"You hated those things as much as I did," was the sharp retort.

The princess seized that opportunity to change the subject. "Now _that _sounds like a story," she laughed.

"Oh, it is, especially since Sula here was the one who got us into that whole mess in the first place!" Brown eyes twinkled merrily.

"_What? _We wouldn't have been in Eastern Guild territory if it weren't for you!"

Az allowed herself to be distracted by Bo and Sula's company before the party of Riders and soldiers stopped to make camp for the night. The blizzard had not hit the area around Central City as hard as it had struck the north, but there was a light dusting of snow on the ground and the wind still howled fiercely through the makeshift camp. Az was grateful to crawl into her warm tent at last, though her dreams were intense and fractured, disturbing her sleep. She thanked Lurline for small mercies though: the witch's voice did not come at all. She would not have been able to bear that.

The next morning, the Rider trainees impressed their instructors and Wyatt Cain with their speedy takedown of the camp and their even speedier return to the road. The men of Sixth grumbled good-naturedly about the "show-offs," displaying the camaraderie that had sprung up between the two groups. DG had been right about prank wars between the Royal Army and the Riders – little mishaps occurred left and right (Az just _knew _that DG had something to do with the itching powder), but nothing so drastic that their superiors had to intervene. Gossip had spread about the botched horserace, and the Riders had learned their lesson well. Still, harmless pranks were considered entertaining and improved morale.

Az rode with the trainees during this leg of the journey as well, soothing nerves as she could and answering questions about the upcoming trials. Eventually, though, she made her way to the front of the train where her sister rode. DG was scowling at her saddle, the set of her shoulders screaming that she was spitting mad at something – or someone. By the looks Glitch and Raw were exchanging, Az knew it could only be one person.

"Something wrong, sister dear?" she inquired innocently as she fell into step beside her irate little sister.

"Yeah, what crawled up Cain's backside and died?" was the growled reply.

Az raised an eyebrow. "Arguing again?"

"That's putting it mildly," Glitch laughed.

"The idiot says that I can't take part in the training exercises!" She shoved the hood of her cloak back in frustration. "His excuse, of course, is that it's 'too dangerous,' but you're going to be out there, too!"

"Cain's job to worry, DG," Raw said soothingly.

"I don't care! The man worries more than a…bunch of grandmothers!" DG said lamely. She turned to her older sister. "Az, there's no reason why I can't come along and help. I'm going to go crazy if I stay cooped up in the castle while you guys have fun in the woods!"

"It's not going to be fun, DG, it's going to be work," Az reminded her.

She snorted. "As if I'm a stranger to work. Az, I said that I'd be there for you because of where these exercises are taking place. I wouldn't be doing a very good job of that if I'm stuck at the palace."

One of DG's most formidable weapons were her big blue eyes – and she never hesitated to use them to her advantage. "I know, Deeg," Az relented. "Why don't you just tell Mr. Cain that you'll stay with him? That should appease him."

"Oh joy. That would be a barrel of laughs, I'm sure." DG rolled her eyes as she considered it. "Still, I'll take what I can get." She wheeled Popsicle around. "Guess I'll go tell him."

Glitch shook his head as the younger princess rode off. "Those two get more and more transparent every day. Especially our resident Tin Man. Is it just me or have there been more sparks flying between them than usual?"

"Oh good!" Az laughed. "I thought I was the only one!"

"Let me tell you, doll-face, you haven't been there during some of their self-defense workouts!" His eyes were bright with the anticipation of shared gossip. Glitch was like an old biddy that way. "I _swear _it's like they're trying to see who cracks first. The Gale Force guards are taking bets on it – out of Cain's hearing of course."

"Of course," she replied with a straight face while Raw chuckled.

"Well, don't just leave me hanging!" the advisor cajoled. "Obviously you've seen something too!"

Az bit back a giggle and told the two about what had transpired in the library.

"No _wonder _you kept looking at them strangely, Raw!" Glitch crowed. He turned to Az, shaking his head in disgust. "I tried to ask him what was going on but he only muttered something about strong feelings flying around before Chancellor Grokey pulled him away!"

"_Very _strong feelings," Raw said emphatically.

"And you couldn't _tell _me about them, you emotional furbag?" Glitch exclaimed. "I was dying of curiosity! I mean, the way they were tiptoeing around each other was simply priceless!"

Az watched with amusement as the two argued amongst themselves. It was like the journey to and from the desert all over again. Glitch and Raw's duties took them to Central as often as her family went, so she hadn't been able to catch up with them. It was a wonderful feeling. All that was needed to complete the picture was-

"_What _are you two arguing about again?" Jeb took DG's spot, smiling indulgently.

"How Raw needs to disclose more things to me," Glitch said, pouting. "As the Queen's Advisor, I need to know these things!"

"Not things of the _heart_," Raw exclaimed. "None of Glitch's business!"

"I _beg _your pardon!" the advisor sputtered.

Jeb grinned at Azkadellia as the two carried on. "Just like old times, huh?"

"Indeed." Something had been niggling at her since the change in location had been made, but she hadn't had the opportunity to talk to Jeb since then because they had been too absorbed in finalizing the details of the exercises. "Jeb, why did you agree to hold the field training in the Finaqua Forest?"

He glanced at her. "I was wondering when you were going to ask me."

"The question is if you're going to answer me truthfully."

Jeb looked at her reproachfully. "Az, you're my friend. As a policy, I always try to be honest with my friends." He scratched his head. "Actually, I try to be honest with everyone. I don't believe in being false."

She nodded. That was true enough. He'd been honest about not trusting her, on that morning so long ago when he found her in the stables. "You're right. I'm sorry that I questioned you, Jeb. But why did you agree?"

"Queen Lavender was right about the risks. Bandit and Longcoat groups would be drawn to the Great Gillikin during the winter. It's the perfect place to hide. We couldn't risk a green group of trainees clomping around, Sixth Company or no. As for you, Az…well, that was an even bigger risk."

"Why?"

He stared at her. "Do you think I would let you near a group of renegade Longcoats, Az? The things that they could or would do to you…no, not on your life."

The vehemence of his reply startled her. "Jeb…" There it was again, that strange, intense look that stole the breath from her lungs.

He turned away then, leaving her feeling oddly bereft. "No Az, Finaqua is the best possible place for this. Queen Lavender was right to suggest it."

"All right," she said faintly. Her heart still thudded in her chest.

Glitch and Raw exchanged glances. Cain and DG weren't the only ones who were ridiculously transparent.

Eventually, the forest of Finaqua sprung up around the party, its trees ancient, tall, and proud. Even the smallest ones would have required several people to stand hand in hand around their bases to circle them completely. Immense branches that would have blocked the sun on a cloudless day filtered the weak light to the point where the entire forest seemed to plunge into dusk, even though night was still a few hours off. It would be slow going through the forest trails until they arrived at Finaqua proper.

Az shuddered and pulled her cloak tighter. She could not shake the feeling of foreboding in her chest.

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**Please review!**

All right, so this chapter was a bit transitional as well, but I can promise an avalanche of angst and action for the next two chapters. Everything until now has been leading to Finaqua for Az. It just remains to be seen if she's come to the point where facing her fears won't break her, if she's truly ready to move on from her past. I have faith in her. :) Expect more, ah, _developments _at Finaqua as well, if you catch my drift.

Spain and the Netherlands are in the World Cup Final! Even though my teams didn't make it through...viva La Furia Roja!


	21. Crescendo

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: "The Moribund Tree and the Toad" and "Ofelia" from the Pan's Labyrinth soundtrack

* * *

Finaqua lay largely untouched by the harsh winter blizzard that had blanketed much of the northern half of the O.Z. with snow. The temperature was decidedly chilly, however, buffeted with periodic bursts of icy winds that howled through the trees, concentrated by the narrow gaps. The non-evergreen trees had lost their leaves long ago, vaguely improving visibility in the difficult to traverse groves.

Az followed a discreet distance from the scouts deployed from the Second Rider group, overseeing their progress as they covered the forest for the main body of the group. The trainees had been assigned the night before, when the party reached Finaqua proper. Trainees went to First Rider Group, led by Jeb and Dunstan, or the Second Rider Group, led by Jem and Micah. Bo and Sula had been assigned to First, Windy and Anka to Second. If all went well during the exercises, those appointments would become permanent.

The trainers had decided long ago that the field exercises would be modeled after what would be a typical Rider mission. If they made the exercises as realistic as possible, it would be easier to evaluate how the trainees would react in a real world situation. With that in mind, Az, Jeb, and Jem had rudely woken the trainees at an ungodly hour of the morning, informing them of two separate bandit raids carried out on different villages. The villages had been ransacked and burned, leaving many villagers dead or homeless. The mission was to track the bandits to their hideouts, capture as many of them as possible, and bring them back to headquarters for trial.

The two Rider groups were now scouring the forest for the "bandit camps," which was where Cain and Sixth came into the picture. The former Tin Man had divided the company in half – one half was divided into the two bandit groups that the trainees had to capture, while the other half were patrolling the forest perimeter to ensure that there would be no outside interference during the exercises, guaranteeing each participant's safety. Az personally thought that the last measure was overkill, but she knew better than to protest her parents' orders. Besides, their presence was almost soothing, as she'd been nothing but prickly and on edge since she'd entered the forest.

Part of her wished that DG was with her, but DG had decided to stick with Wyatt for the duration of the exercises. Az could only wonder what _that _new development meant, since by all appearances she'd been annoyed with the former Tin Man since they left the Northern Palace. Whatever the case, this meant that where Wyatt went, so too did DG, and Wyatt was busy keeping track of the "bandit" groups and checking on the forest patrols. He was the one making sure that no one was interfering with anyone else's job. The last time Az had seen them was during the midday meal before they went off to check in with the nearest patrol units.

Up ahead, Anka and Summersong stopped abruptly on the deer track they'd been following. Az and Freeheart stopped too, and even though they were only yards away from the girl and her horse, Az knew they wouldn't be seen. She'd cloaked them to disappear into the forest background so that she could observe the trainees without them seeing her.

Anka dismounted and peered at the ground. Summersong whickered softly. "I know, girl," Anka murmured, her left hand coming up to touch the mare's head. She picked up a fallen branch and began poking it into the ground. Soon there was a slight crackling noise as bracken and leaves collapsed into a hole in the ground lined with sharpened stakes – a horse trap. "Got you," Anka said grimly before reaching gingerly into the hole and pulling up stakes. Once she had them all, she tied them in a bundle and added them to her packs, as they would probably come in handy later as either weapons or kindling. Then she set about filling the trap. Summersong helped too, nudging bracken and other things into the hole with her nose. All of this was done as quietly as possible.

Az smiled as she made note of this incident. _Very good, Anka_, she thought.

This was not the first time that she'd been impressed with the trainees in the Second Rider Group. They responded well to Jem's quiet but firm leadership and were making good time tracking the "bandits'" trail. However, the main group was not her concern right now, for Jem had asked her to evaluate the scouts' performance. Even though she was forced to be objective, she thought that Jem had done a good job by choosing Windy and Anka to perform this duty. The two teenagers showed excellent scouting ability, staying silent and alert, reporting promptly to their commander when they found additional tracks, enemy patrols, and enemy booby traps like the one Anka had just disassembled. With their reports the Second Rider Group managed to avoid any encounters, though there were several close calls.

A few hours later, another set of scouts discovered the "bandit" camp and reported their location to Jem. With the first hurdle passed, the Rider group settled down for the night in the forest, planning a raid at dawn to retrieve their quarry. Az and Jem discussed the trainees' performance at their own fire, slightly removed from the main campsite. Glitch's noodle packets were put to good use, as a pot of the stuff simmered at every campfire, supplemented by whatever manner of creature the trainees had been able to hunt down.

Jem stared broodingly into the fire, his mood soured by the argument he'd had with Micah earlier in the day.

* * *

"_I won't work with her." The redhead had cornered him during a quiet moment when the scouts were changing shifts._

"_I'm not asking you to," Jem replied mildly. "The Horsemistress is here to evaluate, not lead. She'll not get in the way."_

_She snorted. "Right, with that magic of hers that makes her disappear right into the forest." She brushed a leaf from her cloak. "It's unnatural. I don't like the thought of it, Jem. It puts me on edge every time she uses that magic." Even though the O.Z. was a land steeped in magic, since the time of the Ancients the ability of its citizens to use it had dwindled. Now the Gales were the only ones left who had enough power to practice it, and most O.Z. citizens could only remember it being wielded with deadly results by the witch. It was no wonder that they would be extremely wary whenever the subject of magic came up._

"_The Horsemistress would never use her power that way, Micah," he said wearily. It was an old argument, one they rehashed again and again._

"_What way is that, Jem? The way she's been using it for the past fifteen annuals?" Her voice dripped with derision._

"_That's unfair, Micah."_

_The redhead folded her arms. "Enlighten me, Jem Switzer. How am I unfair?"_

"_The Riders stand for justice and honor. We are bound to stand and protect the O.Z. and her people," he reminded her. "She believes that as much as we do, or she wouldn't be here, working as hard as any of us."_

_Micah's green-gold eyes flickered briefly, but she refused to back down. She hated being in the wrong, and it hurt her pride to admit it. It was so much easier to fight back. It was what made her an excellent Resistance fighter, but a poor people person. "Still, I'll not apologize for what I think" she said, her chin set stubbornly. "I refuse to believe that any good can come of _her-"

_Jem was in a bad enough mood as it was, and he was damn tired of Micah's continued, overwhelming hatred towards Azkadellia. If there was one thing that was keeping the Riders from being a cohesive unit, it was this very issue. " She is your princess, Micah, and your future queen. The Riders also have a duty to the House of Gale, don't you forget that."_

_She gritted her teeth. "Don't make me laugh, Jem Switzer. Are you truly defending her? Have you forgotten everything that she's done?"_

"_Have _you _forgotten, Micah, that it was the sorceress, and not the princess, who was guilty of those crimes? Why do you continue to pursue this?" He pushed a branch out of his face with irritation._

_Her eyes turned as icy cold as green glass. "You know my reasons for hating her, Jem Switzer. You know what she's done to me and mine, and you know that I'll go on wishing her to hell until she's finally there, twisting in flames. The princess and the sorceress are one, and you would do well to remember that."_

_He paused slightly. "I'm sorry you believe that, Micah, that you're so buried in your hate that you cannot see the truth." He'd learned long ago that it was no use to spend so much energy on hatred. It had never driven him, even when he was in the Resistance. He fought because he believed that the O.Z. that was, could be again. Yes, he had been wary of Azkadellia, but he remembered, vaguely, how the O.Z. had loved the heir presumptive. Her beauty, intelligence, and bearing had been lauded, and everyone said how the blood of Dorothy Gale ran true in her._

_He'd seen glimpses of that princess again, once she'd returned from the desert. From then on, it had become harder and harder to hang on to any belief that she was the sorceress. It was maddening that Micah's stubbornness – a trait he loved in her, among many others – could put them on opposite ends of the spectrum._

_The blatant sadness and disappointment in Jem's voice both shamed and infuriated Micah. She had never been one to care very much of what others thought of her – except for Jem. He was usually her staunchest ally, but a rift had grown between them and she blamed Azkadellia wholeheartedly, refusing to see that maybe part of the problem lay within her. "Has she got you blinded as well, Jem?" she demanded, wanting to lash out and make him hurt as she did, though she would never admit to the ache in her gut. "Bewitched? Will I see you and Jeb wearing leather coats next?"_

_Jem could listen no more. He turned on her and Micah shrank back, seeing how black his eyes had gone. "You will say no more, Micah, not to me. Watch your words and actions carefully, for I'll not have that lip, not from my second in command." His voice was low and controlled, more terrifying than any shouted words. He stalked off into the forest, leaving Micah to lean against a tree, completely shaken.

* * *

_

Azkadellia's tentative touch to his arm shook him out of his reverie. "You look tired, Lieutenant," she said kindly. "We have a long day tomorrow. You should rest. I think we're finished here."

He shook his head, idly wishing for a strong pot of tea. "I can't. I have to make sure the sentries are doing their jobs properly throughout the night." And perhaps he could get his mind off the mess that was his personal life.

She raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Did you think I would let you do that alone? We'll switch off, Lieutenant. You should sleep now, and I'll make sure this shift is all right. I'll wake you when second shift is halfway over, so that you have some rest."

He protested. "I cannot ask you to do that, Horsemistress-"

"And yet I will do it, and you cannot stop me," she interrupted. "Go to sleep, Lieutenant. Don't make me pull rank as your princess. You know that I am here to test the trainees as well, and that I will do my duty."

"I do know that," he admitted. "Very well. But make sure that you wake me halfway through the second shift."

"Of course, of course. Now, shoo!" Az pushed him, very lightly, in the direction of his tent. He shot her a grin and complied, not noticing the confused and jealous green gaze that watched them from across the camp.

* * *

"Did you see that? That was amazing!"

"Like when you pinned that bandit to the tree using your knives?"

"Or when you practically mowed down that group of five? They scattered like pigeons!"

Az smiled indulgently as Windy and Anka pranced their horses around her and Freeheart, their young faces flushed with victory and their voices bright with glee. Cloudchaser and Summersong shared in their riders' happiness, shaking their manes and lifting their tails. Freeheart let out a slightly derisive snort and flicked an ear back and forth.

Az considered the exercises a success. Thanks to Jem's meticulous planning (with much input from his group of trainees), the bandits had been rounded up rather tidily, without too many mishaps. A few overenthusiastic trainees had sustained some cuts and bruises, for some of the "bandits" had been forced to put up a fight. The new and friendly rivalry that had sprung up between the Riders and Royal Army was a definite reason for the rougher horseplay, but no one had gotten seriously hurt. The two groups were currently exchanging some good-natured ribbing as they marched back to Finaqua proper, with the "bandits" being guarded by their captors.

Az had kept to her position of observer throughout the entire exercise, carefully evaluating each trainee's performance. Jem, of course, would have made his own observations, but as the commander of Second, he'd been obliged to be in the thick of things. They would compare notes soon enough.

"All right you two, scram." Jem's voice was gritty with fatigue but warm all the same.

"The Horsemistress and I have some rough evaluations to do."

"Aw, Jem, you can't tell us now?" Windy wheedled, his sapphire eyes dancing.

Anka rolled her eyes. "Come _on_, Windy, don't be such a nuisance!" She bared her teeth in a grin. "Don't make me twist your ear, don't think I won't!"

"I rue the day Sula taught her how to do that," the teenager confided to Azkadellia. Anka made a grab for his ear and he quickly moved Cloudchaser forward. "All right, all right, I'm going!"

"Where does he get the energy?" Jem grumbled as the two rode away.

Az chuckled. "Come now, Lieutenant, you know that you can run ragged and still be going in circles around him."

"Not for much longer, I won't," was the wry reply. "These bones are getting old and creaky."

That was a blatant lie if she'd ever heard it. Jem was only a few years her senior and built like a bull. "I do believe Dunstan would thrash you for that, seeing as he has quite a few years on you."

"Well, we'd best not tell him I said that, eh?"

Micah could hear the pair's every word, even though she rode a few horse lengths in front of them. The easy tone of their conversation stirred up emotions both familiar and foreign. Anger was her constant companion, so the heat of it was recognizable enough. She knew the jealousy that sat in the pit of her belly, even though it was new. But there was a bitterness at the back of her throat that was not so obvious. Had she been more in touch with her feelings for Jem, she would have seen it as the fear of loss.

Jem had always been her rock, ever since they'd been assigned to Jeb's cell in the Resistance. He was her friend and her companion, and one of the only reasons she'd remained sane after her loss during the witch's reign. She was loath to admit it, but she depended on him wholeheartedly as she depended on no one. That was why she could not accept the recent change in him. She could not see what he could see in Azkadellia, why he was so easy with her, as Jeb was. It had to be the work of magic, of that she was sure. Azkadellia was _always_ the culprit, the reason for her unhappiness.

She couldn't stand it anymore. Micah barked out an order to Proudflame, who quickly put on a burst of speed to carry them to the front of the train.

Az glanced up from her notes. "And then there is Micah."

"Oh?" Jem's voice was carefully neutral. "What of her?"

"Please don't misunderstand, Lieutenant," she said hastily. "But Micah does have some issues she needs to work on before she can be called a proper Rider."

He snorted, though there was no humor behind it. "I'm not blind, Horsemistress. I know the lady's flaws well enough."

Az hesitated before she spoke. She knew she was crossing a line, but she felt that it had to be said. "And you still love her, despite or even because of them. You're very brave."

"Stupider than a member of the Eastern Guild, is more like it," he grumbled, acknowledging the truth of her words. "It's for naught, anyway. Let me guess, she forgets that she must work with the group."

Az nodded, accepting his silent plea to move on. She held much sympathy in her heart for the man. Love was already a complicated emotion. Love for a woman like Micah had to be much harder. "There were many times when she rushed into a situation on her own. I admit, she was able to fight her way out them each time, but there were other trainees she could have called upon to help her. It would have been more…efficient."

"Our Micah has never been one to work well with a team," Jem admitted. "Oh, she'll fight well enough when she has a cause, but I understand."

"She's your second, Lieutenant. She must remember that she is a leader, that she must be able to give direction to her riders. How can they learn to work together if they're not seeing that example with their leaders?"

Jem winced. It was as though Azkadellia knew something of the spat they'd had the previous day. "It's…difficult for Micah to put her trust in another person."

"I know how she feels."

Jem glanced at the princess, his eyes narrowing shrewdly. "Good. Why don't you tell her so when you provide her with the informal results of our evaluation?"

"What?" The shock was plain in her voice. "Lieutenant, she would never listen to me. You know how she feels about me. Won't this be better coming from you?"

"No." Especially after the events of the previous day. "Micah is your biggest obstacle within the Riders. Don't you think it's time to confront it, Horsemistress?"

"But-"

"Horsemistress, there are many people in the O.Z. like Micah. It is to your advantage to win her over, yes?"

She looked pained. "I don't want to." She would much rather perform a traditional Vedu dance at the next gala, complete with a belly-baring costume and bells on her hips and ankles. That was sure to get tongues wagging.

For the first time during the conversation, Jem's mood lightened. "Do I have to pull rank on you in _this _situation, Horsemistress?"

Az's expression would have made DG proud. It was all dole, woe, and long suffering. "No." Even though they were technically of the same influence within the Riders, she didn't have the authority to lead a Rider group of her own.

Jem suppressed a smile. "Well, I think that's all then. Shall we start pulling trainees aside?"

"I suppose so." The idea of delivering Micah's evaluation made Az feel slightly sick, on top of the uneasiness that hadn't abated after entering the forest. She could feel the cave's presence, resonating in her head like the sour note of a rusty bell. It didn't help that she felt as though something was out there, waiting for her to just let down her guard so that it could pounce.

But there was feedback to give out, so she pushed her worries to the back of her head.

"…so please keep that in mind in the future, Trainee Kerry."

"Yes, Horsemistress."

"Good. Carry on then." Az looked at her notes, and with a sinking heart, saw that only Micah was left on her list. She swallowed, then gritted her teeth and squared her shoulders. There was no reason that they couldn't do this like civil people. They were both strong women – surely there was some sort of common ground to be found?

Az rolled her eyes to the sky. That was about as likely as her mother serving one of Wonderland's infamous "teas" at teatime.

Freeheart trotted forward, as if he'd read her mind. Within moments, he'd caught up to the redhead at the head of the train. "Micah, I would like to have a word with you concerning your performance during the exercises," she said. There. That was neutral enough, and she'd done her a great courtesy by dropping the title of "trainee," trying to put them on equal footing.

Micah stared staunchly ahead. "I have no interest in your opinion of my performance, _Horsemistress_." She made her title sound like an insult.

Az took a deep breath. "I'm sorry you feel that way, but it is very important-"

"There is nothing you have to say that could possibly be important to me, _witch_." Micah enjoyed the way the princess cringed at her words. "Now, leave me alone."

She wasn't going to let those words get to her. She had promised herself that. "I'm afraid that's not possible. Lieutenant Switzer!" she called over her shoulder.

"Yes, Horsemistress?"

"I'm borrowing Micah for a moment." She glanced back at the woman beside her and Micah was almost taken aback by the determination in her eyes. "Proudflame, follow!" she snapped in Vedu, pushing Freeheart into a fierce gallop away from the group. If things were going to be difficult, she would rather handle them without any prying eyes. She ignored Micah's shouts and curses, knowing full well that Proudflame would follow Freeheart until they stopped.

They entered a small clearing. Az dismounted, muttering a quick spell under her breath. Micah took that opportunity to try and make a run for it, only for Proudflame to balk at the invisible barrier that had sprung up around them. Micah slid off his back and tried the barrier herself. As she did so, Az shrank it so that it encompassed only the two of them, leaving their horses outside.

"Let me go," she demanded. "I'll not be caged by your infernal magic."

Az had to give the woman a grudging amount of respect. Even though she was clearly frightened by the barrier, she was not giving way. "Not until we finish our conversation. I won't have _you _bolting away until I've had my say. I'm not going to harm you. You have my word."

"And what good is the word of a sorceress?"

"The word of a _Gale_." Az took a deep breath, willing herself to calm down. She had an entire speech prepared, one on the merits of working together as a team. But when she opened her mouth, something else came out. "Why do you hate me so much? What have I ever done to you, personally?"

Micah stiffened. Green eyes blazed with fury.

"_You killed my brother_."

Az's eyes widened as she realized her question and Micah's response. She called herself ten times a fool for asking such a ridiculous question. Everyone in the Resistance had a personal grudge to bear against the witch. "I-"

"No, I'll be the one to talk." Micah strode forward until they were face to face. She was tall for a woman, dominating Az's height by a few inches. "Do you remember, Sorceress? Your precious Longcoats caught a small group of Resistance fighters near Illswater. Most of them managed to escape, except one. You tortured him for information for _hours_, feeding off his pain and enjoying it before you sucked his soul from his body."

Az remembered.

* * *

_"Give me the names of your leaders," she asked sweetly, crossing behind the young man tied to the tree. "Maybe I'll even be nice and just toss you in the dungeon for a few years."_

_ The prisoner didn't even bother to reply. His face was ashen and sweaty, his skin rubbed raw from where he strained against his bonds. He bled from numerous small cuts all over his body, cuts so small that he wasn't going to suffer from significant blood loss, but meticulously placed so that they caused the most pain._

_ She came around in front of him, the hem of her black skirt brushing over the forest floor. "Or maybe I'll take you as one of my own," she mused, admiring his youthful, handsome face. "You'd make a lovely addition to my forces. Tell me…can you be turned?" She trailed one long, sharp nail along the line of his throat._

_ Revulsion blossomed in his glassy, pain-filled gaze. "Never," he rasped, and spat on her cheek._

_ The sorceress held up a hand as the Longcoats advanced. "Leave," she ordered, her face creasing with displeasure. Her guards blanched at the emotionless quality to her voice. That tone meant that she had been pushed to the edge, and the consequences would be terrifying beyond belief._

_ She calmly wiped the spittle from her alabaster skin. "I see," she said silkily. "You want to play."_

_ His screams pierced the night, and it was only at daybreak when, grumpy and information-less, she pulled his soul from his body.

* * *

_

His hair had been as red as the sunset, Az realized. Micah's brother. Oh, how the witch had exulted during that night. She'd enjoyed every little cut she'd laid into his skin, had drunk his screams like ambrosia. Oh yes, she remembered it all, and was as ashamed as if she'd been the one to end his life. It amounted to the same thing – the witch had used her body, her talent to kill him. His blood was on her hands. "I'm sorry," she croaked, realizing the futility of the words the moment they escaped her mouth.

"Too little, too late, Sorceress." Micah circled Azkadellia, her eyes as hard and pitiless as marbles. "Do you think that I can accept something so paltry as an apology from you? Do you think that I can forgive you for everything you've done, everything you're doing?"

"What have I done now?" It was beginning to get so, so cold. Hundreds of dead faces stared back at her, reflected in Micah's eyes. Az began to tremble.

"Bewitching," the redhead spat out. "I can understand Windy and Anka, as they're so impressionable that they'll follow the first one to pat their heads. But Jeb and Jem?" Her lips tightened at the lieutenant's name. "How did you do it? How did you turn them into your new lap mobats?"

Az shook her head numbly. The strength she'd had moments ago was beginning to melt away. "I haven't done anything. They're my friends."

"Friends? Witches don't have friends, _Your Highness_," Micah mocked, viciously enjoying this turn of events. "You'll do well to remember that, and to stay away from them. I'll not have you poisoning their minds further."

There was so much rage and pain and jealousy in her eyes that Az's heart hurt in response. "I'm sorry Micah, I cannot do that. They _are _my friends, even though you choose to deny it."

Micah had never hated anyone so much in her entire life. The woman in front of her had murdered her bother, ruined her country, stolen her friends, and still had the nerve to stand up to her. "You don't deserve them," she snarled.

That much was true. Windy's cheerful teasing, Anka's quiet admiration, Bo's brotherly affection, Sula's fierce attentiveness, and Jem's steadfast loyalty were gifts that she could have never hoped to receive. And Jeb…everything that Jeb had given her was beyond price. "I know. I am trying to be deserving of them."

"You never can." The years of pent-up emotion were beginning to boil over. "You lying, murdering bitch, there is nothing you can do to make up for what you've done!"

Az flinched. "I can only try."

That answer was so unbelievable that Micah could only laugh. "Oh, and how do you propose to do so, Sorceress?"

"Tell me," Az said tiredly. She was so weary of this battle. "What can I do to make amends for you, Micah?"

Micah's vision went hazy and red. "What can you do? An eye for an eye, Sorceress." She had Azkadellia pinned by the throat against the nearest tree before either of them could blink. Her rage deafened her judgment. All she could think of was the pain of her brother's death, the uncertainty of life in the Resistance, the humiliation of the Longcoats' torture, and the shattering of her heart when she saw the way Jem looked at the princess.

Az closed her eyes and tried to breathe. The nails digging into the tender skin of her neck were sharp. "Micah."

"That's it, Sorceress, beg. Beg me to spare your life like my brother begged you to spare his. Or try to use your magic against me, it will only prove what you really are."

The pressure was intense, but inside Azkadellia was calm. Had she somehow known that it would eventually come to this? That she could die for the sins that had been committed with her body, her magic? In her name? Perhaps she had. It was the only way to explain the numbness that settled over her heart.

Micah was confused by the lack of reaction. "Come on!" she shouted, tightening her grip. "Beg! Kill me! Do something!"

Az opened her eyes then, and the mixture of emotions in those purple depths confused Micah to no end. The depth of resignation, acceptance, and sadness there was staggering.

"It's all right," she whispered. Crystalline tears dripped down her cheeks. "I would die a million times over if it meant I could atone for everything she did. But my death cannot bring your brother back, and for that I am truly sorry."

Micah's mouth opened but no words escaped. She let go and stumbled back, her own eyes wide and bewildered. Air rushed into Az's lungs and she collapsed on the ground, wheezing. Her hold over the barrier shattered and Freeheart charged between the two women, screaming his rage.

"Freeheart, stop," Az choked as Micah ran for Proudflame. The pair thundered away, leaving Az and Freeheart alone. The only sounds were the princess' gasps and sobs and the stallion's thundering breaths. Eventually, the stallion knelt and curled around his mistress as best he could, until she could do nothing but cry into his mane.

"Oh, my heart, what do I do?" she whispered. Freeheart nudged her with his head, urging her to get onto his back. Even though her strength had all but left her, she managed to drag herself on. The stallion got to his feet slowly, and trotted into the deepening shadows of the forest.

Az drifted, not even noticing when it began to rain. When Freeheart finally stopped, she lifted her head from his neck, expecting to see Finaqua Castle.

Instead, she looked into the black maw of the witch's cave.

* * *

**Please review!**

Dun dun duuuuuuun! Az is finally face-to-face with the cave - and thus, her fears. Everything's been building to this moment because she'll need everything that she's learned about herself to get through it and achieve some semblance of peace. And now you all know why Micah's been horrible to Az. I hope you guys don't hate her too much!**  
**


	22. A Light in the Dark

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: Even if you haven't taken a look at the musical selections for the other chapters, I would highly recommend doing so here. These two pieces definitely helped to bring this chapter to life. They are "Anne Dreams of Her Childhood" from season two of The Tudors (I would replay it once or twice), and "Magic Snow Music" from the episode _Amends _of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

* * *

Azkadellia peered through the rain and felt her heart stutter in her chest. She prayed to Lurline that the image in front of her was a product of exhaustion, but her eyes did not betray her. She dismounted, her knuckles turning white on Freeheart's saddle. "My heart, why here?" she whispered, fear causing her throat to tighten.

The great stallion nickered softly and turned his head. His onyx eyes stared into hers. Intelligence flickered in those dark depths, and it was as though he was speaking to her.

_You are ready. It is time to face what you fear._

She shook her head mutely. She wasn't strong enough, wasn't brave enough, no matter what DG told her. What if she went inside, only to find the witch waiting for her once more? There was no telling what would be unleashed.

Az was startled out of her frozen stupor by a strong push from behind that nearly sent her to her knees. "Freeheart!" she gasped. The stallion had slammed into her with his shoulder and was preparing to do so once more. His stance was strong and his gaze implacable. There would be no going back – only forward.

"Please," she pleaded, though her protestations were empty even to her own ears. Just as the Brick Route was the path to Central City, her path until now led here. She took a deep breath and began picking her way among the rocks and fallen trees, her faithful stallion at her back. Like it or not, she had to be here. She had to confront the demons that still haunted her. There had to be closure.

The princess stared at the cave mouth. It was as daunting and terrifying as it was that day fifteen annuals before. Though she could no longer hear the cries that echoed from its depths, it still beckoned to her. "Freeheart, guard," she commanded hoarsely, summoning a globe of light and entering the heart of darkness.

Inside the cave, her tiny light flickered in her hand, her only defense against the creeping blackness. The rocks glistened with the dampness of rain and humidity. The air inside was not cool, but heavy and almost suffocating with the weight of years and evil. Her light caught the picture language on the wall, detailing that long-ago battle of good versus evil, where a witch was eventually imprisoned.

For a moment, Az felt resentment for the Ancients swamp her entire being. Every child in the O.Z. was taught that the Ancients had formed the land into what it was today, that they lived in a golden era full of technology, riches, and wonder that had been lost to the centuries. In this day and age, they were thought of as gods. In the end, those wonderful beings had only been able to contain the witch.

So much for the glory of the Ancients, she thought spitefully.

Her feet carried her onward, until she was faced with that gaping stone face and the crumbled opening into the witch's prison.

A great wave of panic washed over her then, locking every muscle in her body tight. Her eyes glazed over and suddenly she was reliving that day in awful clarity. She remembered it all – the horrible, echoing cries, the illusion of a little girl transforming into the gruesome reality of the witch. She felt DG's hand in hers, could feel their combined fear as a bitter taste at the back of her throat.

Worst of all was the emptiness inside of her when DG let go, along with the knowledge that her Light alone was nothing against the power of the witch. She remembered the sickly feeling of possession. It had been like playing hide and seek with DG as children, when they would squeeze in a wardrobe or chest together. Except in this case, she'd been shoved into a tiny corner of her mind, with no control over what her body or her magic did.

Corruption. Greed. Death. She'd known all of these things. Each of them had tainted her in their own way. Those sins had taken up all of her, choking her Light until it was faint and unrecognizable, a mere sparkle in the darkness that shrouded her entire being.

_You took that part of me willingly, _the witch hissed in her mind. _You wanted to know what it would be like to give in to the darker side of magic. You wanted to know what power would be had, and you found it._

Az could not deny it. The darker side of magic had a terrifying power all of its own. It was like ambrosia to the witch, but to Az it was like tar, thick and greasy, sliding through her body and leaving pollution in its wake.

_The princess does protest too much. You've never felt such a thing in your life. And with the Emerald…we brought the power of the suns to a heel. We could have that again. All you need to do is accept it._

The Double Eclipse. The power that had run through her that day had been overwhelming. It was like standing in the heart of a firestorm and directing all of its power through her body. It had been heady. It had been paralyzing. At that moment, she'd been treading a very dangerous line, with immortality on one side and certain death on the other.

She had to remind herself of the price of that power. It had cost her everything – her country, her people, her family, her youth, her freedom. Her Light. Immortality and power were too high a price to pay for losing everything of herself.

How could it be such a wonderful thing if she was left as shattered as her country? All that was left to her now was a legacy of evil. Her name was spoken in bitterness, anger, and fear. The burden of blame rested solely on her shoulders.

No, that wasn't quite right. A surge of righteous anger flowed through her. The witch may have worn her face, but it had been the witch's doing, not hers. _She _was the one responsible for all of this, not Azkadellia. Her breath began to come out in harsh pants as her anger fed her power until it swirled and eddied around her, seeking an outlet.

_Go on then_. The taunts seemed to emanate from every nook and cranny of the cave. _Use it. Strike me down. You want it so badly, but your puny little Light won't be able to do the trick. There's a wealth of power for the taking, and you'd only need a little bit._

Sweat beaded on Az's forehead as she realized what was going on around her. "No, I won't do it," she mumbled. But she made no move to dismiss the magic that hung in the air around her. It was so tempting…

_Do it. You have a chance to take me down, here and now. It's the only way to get rid of me, princess. Do it, and claim the power. It is your right._

It was her right, Az realized. Not to claim the dark power offered to her, but to get rid of the witch once and for all. She had to get rid of the voice in her head, not just for her sake, but for the sake of all of the O.Z. Her Light had been all but extinguished. Perhaps the only way to defeat the darkness was to use it.

Hate. She could all but taste it on her tongue, bitter yet cloying, as it fed the magic that continued to build around her. Oh yes. She hated the witch for everything she'd done. There was no one else to blame.

The pressure built around her until the air was thick with roiling, churning power. Her field of vision narrowed on the stone face in front of her, which now resembled that of the witch. Az let out a high, sharp shriek of pure rage and allowed the tainted magic to run through her, focusing it into a single sickly green beam that decimated the stone face in front of her.

When the laughter began again, triumphant and smug, Az realized what she'd done.

_You are so easy to manipulate, princess. Did that feel good? Look at what you've wrought. Total darkness…in you._

Az watched in fear as her tiny little light flickered before guttering out, plunging the entire cave into pitch-blackness. In the next soul-shattering moment, so too did her Light. "What've I done?" she croaked.

_Accepted your legacy with open arms, princess. Congratulations._

She'd been caught like a mouse in a trap, goaded into this one course of action. She felt the absence of the Light like a hole in her soul, and it was all the worse knowing that she'd done it voluntarily. "No…no, no, no, no." Perhaps if she repeated it enough she could make herself believe that it hadn't happened, that it was all a product of her fevered mind.

The lack of light was beginning to frighten her. It was as though she had been swallowed up by the darkness, and maybe she had. She couldn't imagine how it could possibly get worse.

_So, you have finally worked up the courage to face us here, Sorceress._

Az stumbled back, horrified. Instead of the specter of the witch, she was confronted by the accusing stares of those she'd killed. These were faces out of nightmares, faces she never forgot, and grieved over in the privacy of her heart. Resistance fighters, Longcoats she'd killed out of spite or pique, Viewers she'd drained of their Sight because the witch had been too lazy to scry on her own, Eastern Guildsmen she'd tortured because she loved the sound of their high-pitched screams. Regular citizens of the O.Z.

_You are a Gale, a Champion of the Light. You should have protected us from her. Instead you let her kill us._

The collective voice in her head was damning. "She was too strong." That plea sounded weak, even to her own ears.

I _killed them? _The witch was still exulting in her torment. _We both know that's not true, don't we princess? You enjoyed having that power. It's exhilarating, isn't it, knowing that you control something so potent as death._

_ You allowed her to let fear and death run rampant in this country, _her victims insisted.

_Oh yes, and the taste of it all was so sweet_, the witch purred. _So satisfying._

Az clapped her hands over her ears. "No, no," she begged, clamping her eyes shut. It was too much for her at once. She could not fight the shadows of her guilt and the torment of her jailer, not at the same time. Their voices overlapped in her head until she feared she would go mad with it all.

_Running from us, princess? _Her victims inquired. _Have you truly become so weak?_

_ She's always been weak, _the witch sneered. _She was nothing until I came along._

She felt more than weak. This was absolute and utter hopelessness. It was as though there was nothing left for her now but the suffering before her, a wretched atonement from which she would never be free. Even death would not be so kind to her. She imagined that when she died she would still twist in the inferno of her failures.

Az collapsed, her knees crying out in agony as they struck the freezing stone surface of the cave floor. The irony of her position did not escape her – the witch had possessed her in that very same one fifteen annuals before. Only now she was faced with all she and the witch had to answer for.

_What do you have to say for yourself, Sorceress?_

_ She has nothing to say_. The witch's voice was high and cruel. _Don't you, princess? Do you think _they _would accept something so paltry as an apology?_

But apologies were all she had to offer. Even if she had the full power of the Light at her disposal, there was nothing she could do to set things to right. She would have gone back, if she could. She would have somehow stopped DG from going into that cave, stopped this horrible set of events from ever happening.

She stopped for a moment. Did she really want that? Turning back time meant that events would have conspired differently, but how differently? Who was to say what would have happened if she and DG would have encountered the witch later? Who was to say that she would sink her claws into some other innocent soul? The witch had been clever, and had spent a long time waiting. She would have been freed eventually.

And what of the life and the people she knew now? She might have married Rajah, and there would have been no Amirah, no Tahir. There would have been no reason for Viewers to be in the O.Z., so there would have been no Raw. DG might have never known Wyatt Cain, except in drastically different circumstances. There would be no Riders. No Freeheart.

And there would be no Jeb in Azkadellia's life; at least not in the way he was now. That made all the difference. He meant so much to her and had taught her so much. Because of him, she was beginning to believe that everything happened for a reason. That even out of the darkest night there was always the promise of day.

Her hands were wet. At first she thought it was from all the blood that had been spilled. But when she lifted her hands up to her lips, she found that her fingers were salty. Her tears, she thought, lifting a hand to her cheek to find it equally wet. How long had she been weeping?

_Tears. Do you really expect to sway them with tears?_

No. She didn't want to evoke pity or sympathy. She wanted to be forgiven. "I'm so sorry," she whispered as tears continued to stream from her eyes. "I'm sorry that my Light was not enough to stop her." The words that she spoke to Micah in the woods came tumbling from her lips once more, earnest and sincere. "I would die a million times over if it meant I could atone for everything she did. But my death cannot bring you back, and for that I am truly sorry."

As she said those words, she felt as though she could breathe again. Silence stretched before her and she gathered the strength to look up.

They were gone. Somehow, they had heard her apology, and accepted it as she now did. The overwhelming weight of her guilt had disappeared, along with the shadows it brought, leaving her alone, save for the witch in her head.

_You're not so easily rid of me, princess_. _I told you before, you cannot escape me. I _am _you_.

"Enough," Az said harshly, closing her eyes. There was something niggling at her. The wording of that statement seemed terribly important.

I _am _you.

That had been her fear for so long – but what if it were true, just not in the way that she thought? She could all but see the truth unraveling before her.

That was the key. The witch _was_ her, or rather, the voice in her head was her own. It was an echo of her imprisonment, something she'd clung to as ardently as her guilt because she felt that she was beyond forgiveness. And because she was so afraid of everything that had been done with her magic and her body, it had been easy for her to create that voice and to believe in it.

After almost fifteen annuals of imprisonment, it was almost habit to hear that voice in her mind, torturing her slowly, night after night. It was not entirely difficult to see that she had continued that brand of torture on herself, but for entirely different reasons. The witch had created a dark place inside of her, one that Az feared and yet could not let go of at the same time. She'd lived in that dark place for so long that it had become second nature to stay there, stewing in guilt and misery. It was familiar, comfortable even. She had convinced herself that she belonged there, that it was as much of a home to her as any of the royal palaces.

But it wasn't her home, not anymore. There was no reason to stay behind in that dark place while everyone else moved into the light. She belonged there with them, in that place where she did not have to feel the tight grip of hear, the agony of regret, and the heaviness of self-loathing. She wasn't that person anymore, and hadn't been for a long time.

Her journey with the Riders had shown her that, starting from her time in the desert. Among the Vedu, she was no one but the ma'at Aesha, a magically talented Outlander with remarkable horse-sense, beloved by Sheikh Jaasir's family. Because of them, she'd discovered a part of herself she thought long gone, a person worthy of respect and love.

With the Riders, she had been granted authority separate from her royal status. She had a duty all her own, that no one else could perform. But being Horsemistress was more than mere duty – she genuinely _loved _what she did, for it gave her purpose. It was so fulfilling, to discover the full potential of her horses along with the trainees. And among the Riders she had _friends_. She had the makings of a full and wonderful life at her fingertips, but she'd been held back by her refusal to forgive and accept herself.

Acceptance was the hardest part of this journey. She had to face every ugly fear and every piece of her that she thought was broken and beyond repair. She had to acknowledge the fact that all of those pieces made up the sum of her being and could not be ignored. She could only make peace with them and embrace them for what they had made her.

It was not true, that Azkadellia was nothing but the absence of the witch. It _was_ true that the witch had tainted and all but consumed her, leaving nothing but shattered remains in her wake. Azkadellia learned that she could take those pieces and forge them into something stronger for her experience with evil, someone who knew both sides of the coin. Someone who understood that darkness was not the same as evil. She found that she could learn to love that person, the one who had ultimately been changed for the better.

Warmth settled throughout her entire being as Az felt the Light engulf her. The feeling of serenity was absolute, like basking in the glow of the summer sun. The Light had not abandoned her. It had been with her all along, suppressed by her doubts and demons.

Az thought of the blossom that Jeb had tucked into her hair so long ago. She had been like a bud this entire time, her petals tightly furled. They had protected her, yes, but she had never bloomed. Never shown her true potential.

It was time to bloom.

She opened her eyes and listened. She could hear nothing but the steady drip of water somewhere in the cave. There were no voices in her head. The echo of the witch had disappeared. She was truly alone. She put her hands up in front of her and let the Light stream from her, illuminating what was dark. The Light grew steadily brighter, until she could no longer look into it.

When the Light finally faded, the crumbling face in front of her was gone. Instead, there was a smooth stone wall, embedded with glyphs that told the story of how two princesses fought a witch – and won.

Az trailed her fingertips over the carvings and smiled, finally at peace.

She emerged from the cave as the palest rays of dawn came sweeping through the trees. She found Jeb frantically pacing in the entrance, ignoring the accumulated aches and pains from the exercises, his frenzied search, and his nightlong vigil over his princess. He immediately turned at the sound of her footsteps. In that moment, it was as though she was cloaked in sunshine.

Az looked into his eyes and it was like looking into the sky – one where she was free and safe and loved.

* * *

**I would definitely love some feedback for this chapter in particular. Please review!**

Many, many thanks to MatsuMama for her invaluable help with this chapter. It has been both a joy and a pain to write, and it goes without saying that _this _is my favorite chapter.


	23. Waiting Game

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: "Charades" from the Lady in the Water soundtrack and "Darcy's Letter" from the Pride and Prejudice soundtrack

* * *

Jeb eyed his father. "Come on, Dad, you know you don't have to wait with us. I'm sure Raw would appreciate your company at the castle." He tried desperately to keep the smile out of his voice.

"That's fine, son, but I'll just wait here until the second group returns and I get the reports from Sixth," Wyatt Cain said through gritted teeth. He would have liked to sit in front of a fire, especially because it was beginning to rain – not that he would admit that.

DG rolled her eyes. "For heaven's sake, Cain, your ankle is swelling up like a balloon, and tree branches do not a pair of crutches make." She tilted her head. "Even if they're remarkably sturdy."

Crystal blue eyes narrowed in irritation as he turned to look at her. "Princess, I wouldn't even be in this mess if you hadn't been swinging said tree branches too close to the fire."

"No one _said_ you had to leap from Nick's back to get me out of the way!" Her lower lip jutted out stubbornly. "I knew how close I was to it, thank you very much."

"Right. Then why are the hems of your pants singed?"

Jeb suppressed a smile. The exchanges between his father and DG were almost on par with Bo and Sula's, which was why he could admit that there truly was something between them. It was still odd, since he and DG were close in age. But there was no denying that what they had was special. He knew his mother would never begrudge his father happiness, especially after all that he'd been through, so why should he?

Jeb's musing was interrupted when Jem's group finally began to trickle out of the forest. He perked up immediately. The first group had passed with flying colors, so he was eager to see how the second group had fared. There was no doubt in his mind that he would have two full Rider groups ready to send into the field once spring arrived.

One of the captains from Sixth came to Wyatt and the two immediately began conferencing off to the side. Jeb waved the men from Sixth and the second group up towards the castle. "Go and get some rest, trainees!" he called. "You deserve it!"

DG craned her neck. "Where's Az? I don't see her."

Jem dismounted from Sandstrider's back. "She went to have a private word with Micah over her performance during the exercise. I expect that they'll be right behind us."

Jeb frowned. "But Micah's right over there."

Jem's head whipped around. Sure enough, the redhead was trying to slip by them by sidling alongside a group of soldiers from Sixth. Az was nowhere to be seen. "_Micah!_" he roared. "_Report!_"

Even though her first instinct was to run, Micah was no coward. She was still trying to piece together what had happened in the forest and it was impossible to think clearly. "Yes, Lieutenant?" She tried to sound as nonchalant as possible and failed miserably.

"Where is the Horsemistress?" There was a clear warning in Jem's tone, one that had Micah bristling like an offended cat.

"Is she not back here?" She would've expected her to come running back to her sister's arms.

Jem folded his arms. "Obviously not."

"Well, then she's prancing about the forest, I suppose."

"Finaqua Forest is the least likely place for Az to be 'prancing around,'" DG said sharply. A sense of foreboding slithered down her spine.

"And how was I supposed to know that?" the older woman demanded, shifting uneasily. "She wanted to be left alone, didn't she? So I left."

Jeb sensed that this was not the whole story. She was pale and sweaty, her freckles standing out against the whiteness of her skin. "Micah, the Horsemistress never did give you her evaluation, did she? What happened?"

"Nothing happened!" Her voice cracked and could be heard over the patter of rain. "We had words, that's all." Jem snorted in disbelief. "All right, Jem Switzer, harsh words. I'll not say another thing, for the rest is between the Horsemistress and I."

"So you had words with your superior, is that correct?" The harshness in Jeb's voice had everyone looking at him in surprise. "And then you left her by herself in the forest, knowing full well that it would take some time to get back to base camp. If this were part of your evaluation, Micah, I would fail you."

His words struck her like a blow. "She grew up here, didn't she?" she demanded. She would not allow herself to feel guilty, even though her stomach was twisting in ways that seemed to suggest that very emotion. She could still remember the look in the princess' eyes when she made her apology. "Wouldn't she know this place better than any other person?"

"Azkadellia knows and fears this place more than any person should." Jeb held himself in rigid control, but that last statement nearly came out as a snarl. His heart pounded against his ribs in something perilously close to panic. Az was somewhere in Finaqua Forest by herself. He knew that she had nothing to fear from the witch in there, but did she? He made a quick decision, raising the carved whistle around his neck to his lips. Its tone was high and clear, and easily discernible at base camp.

The whistle caught Wyatt's attention. "What's going on?"

"Az is wandering around the forest," DG answered, regretting the fact that she'd sent Popsicle up with Glitch and Stormrider. She could feel her own brand of anxiety rising up inside of her. "We've got to find her."

Wyatt exchanged looks with the captain from Sixth. "Get your men assembled again," he ordered. "We need search parties out in the woods." The captain left at a run.

There was a thunder of hooves. "I swear to Lurline, Jeb Cain, if this is another part of that exercise," Sula began. She'd obviously been caught in the middle of dressing a wound, as cotton strips trailed from her tunic's sleeve.

"There is no drill here, Sula," Jeb interrupted. "Listen up, trainees! We need you to divide into search parties. Due to an oversight-" He didn't look at Micah but she still felt as though he'd pointed her out. "Your Horsemistress has been left in the forest. It is imperative that we locate her as soon as possible." His expression changed as he turned to Micah. Because he had his back to the trainees, none of them saw the mask begin to slip, nor did he want them to. It would not do for them to see their commanding officer succumb to his emotions.

Despite herself, Micah shrank back. She had never seen that look in Jeb's eyes except one other time – when the Longcoats killed his mother. His eyes were as still, cold, and hard as the eyes on a marble statue. "Commander, I-" she began.

Jeb interrupted her, his voice as sharply honed and cutting as a Vedu scimitar. "I don't like being lied to, Micah. You're staying with Jem until I decide what to do with you. As of now, you're on probation."

At any other time, DG would have felt bad for the older woman. Jeb's fury was clear, and it was frightening to behold. But the fact remained that her sister was out there, alone, cold, wet, and Lurline knew what else. She couldn't dredge up any sympathy, not right now. An already abashed Micah met her gaze and flushed as she got the brunt of the princess' icy stare.

"DG, do you have any idea where she might be?" Jeb asked, turning to the front once more. He was in control of himself now, but just barely. DG caught a flicker in his eye – concern tinged with desperation. He wasn't angry anymore, he was only thinking of Az.

"I would have thought that she would come back here," she said, shaking her head. "She liked the maze well enough, but she loved the gardens and the library the best. The forest was interesting, but-" Her breath stuck in her throat.

"What?"

"The cave," she said hoarsely. This was _exactly _what she'd been afraid of. "I don't think she would go there willingly, but there's a chance she did. It's to the northwest, hiding beneath a large overhang of rock."

"I know exactly where that is!" Anka piped up. "Commander, Windy and I passed by that area while we were scouting." She shivered. "It gave us a bad feeling, so we never went in."

"Show me," he demanded. Someone had brought Strongwind from the stables and he mounted quickly. "The rest of you I want in groups of five doing a systematic sweep of the forest. I want to cover all of our bases in case she's somewhere else." He shot one last glare at Micah. "No one's getting any sleep until we find her." With that, he disappeared into the forest with Anka and Windy beside him, leaving Jem and Dunstan to organize the remaining trainees into groups.

Wyatt glanced at the men of Sixth assembled behind the trainees. "Well, don't just stand there!" he snapped, smarting at the realization that he couldn't go with them because of his ankle. It was becoming more agonizing by the minute. "You're looking for her too and you don't need me to walk you through it." As they scurried off, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. "And just where do you think you're going, princess?" The moment that statement came out of his mouth, he winced. It was so automatic to him to question her, even in a situation like this where he knew all too well where she was going.

"I'm getting Popsicle," DG replied. "You think I'm going to just hang back and let everyone else search for her?"

"No-"

DG barreled on. "She's my _sister, _Cain! I have every right to be looking for her!"

"DG, I never said-"

The younger princess rounded on him, the reins on her temper snapping. She was tired, wet, helpless, and furious. She couldn't think of anything but Az. She _knew _what could happen out there. She knew how terrified Az was to even set foot in the forest. Who knew what kind of psychological trauma she could sustain if she was really there? "I can take care of myself. You know that by now, and you should know better than to try and hold me back, especially when my family's at stake!" Her voice rose higher. "Az is out there, maybe at that godforsaken cave, and she _needs _me. I don't care if your ankle is _broken_, but so help me God I'll break the other one if you try to stop me!"

"Will you listen to me, for Ozma's sake?"

"No!" DG stomped towards the stables. She was wasting precious time by arguing with him. She could have scryed something by now, even though she was horrible at it.

"DG!" Wyatt limped after her. "I don't know where you're getting this harebrained idea that I'm trying to stop you from going after Azkadellia. I think I learned that lesson the first time." Besides, how could he blame her? If it had been Jeb, he would've been the first one to plunge into the forest.

"Well, thanks for the clarification," she muttered. She could still hear him following her, and she automatically slowed down. Even if she was pissed at him, she wasn't going to aggravate his injury. Though if he really did try to stop her, she would have no problem following through on her threat. The contradictory nature of her emotions didn't escape her. "You can't blame me for jumping to that conclusion when you hover over me like some sort of mother hen."

Wyatt rolled his eyes heavenward. "I'm the commander of the Gale Force and therefore in charge of your safety, princess. Hovering is part of the job description."

"The Gale Force protects the House of Gale. Doesn't that include Az? Aren't you concerned for her safety right now, Cain?" DG didn't know why she was continuing to needle him. Perhaps she was more tired than she thought, not that that was going to stop her from going after Az.

He gritted his teeth. He had always admired her single-minded intensity, but now it was just irritating. "Stop putting words in my mouth, DG. You know that I care about Azkadellia and her safety. If you'd just think for a minute, you'd realize that the only reason I hover is because…I don't like it when you hare off into situations where I can't protect you, all right? I…care about you."

DG felt her heart stutter slightly in her chest. Swallowing confusion and another emotion she couldn't describe, she continued to stride forward. What was he saying? Frustration bubbled beneath her skin as she mulled over his words. Was he trying to distract her? Guilt her into staying? Or worse, was he pulling her leg? Ever since that moment in the library, he'd been an odd combination of intense and teasing. She hadn't been able to gauge his true reaction to her little confession, and the whole hot and cold thing was getting really old. "Simple question, simple answer, Cain," she tossed over her shoulder. "I don't want some bogus, fluffy…platitude."

There was a soft thud as Wyatt Cain tossed his makeshift crutches to the ground. DG had no time to react as she was picked up, turned, and pushed against the stable wall. Temper burned in his eyes, turning as blue as the heart of a butane flame. Something inside of her caught fire as well, a mixture of anger, arousal, and a touch of fear burning in her gut.

"Don't throw my words back at me, DG," he growled.

Her eyes widened. He'd been serious. As a result, she'd hurt him with her careless words. "Oh." Now she felt stupid.

As quickly as his rage had flared, it cooled. He chuckled. "You've got to stop jumping to conclusions about me, princess. Trust me."

"Believe me, Wyatt, I do," DG said honestly, his given name sliding easily off her tongue. She saw his pupils dilate in the waning light of the stable's torches, saw them flick down to her mouth. Her stomach jumped in response and her heart turned in giddy cartwheels when she realized that _this _was what they had been working towards ever since he'd stumbled out of that iron suit.

"Do you." His voice has gone husky at the realization of their proximity and his words came out as a statement rather than a question.

"Yeah. Do you trust me?" It occurred to her that maybe they weren't really talking about trust.

Wyatt sighed. His muscular frame relaxed around her. "You know I do." His gaze shifted back to hers and there was a conviction in them that was almost frightening to behold. Slowly, ever so slowly, he eased forward and brushed his lips lightly against hers, a whispered promise that had her heart racing.

The clatter of hooves forced the two to break apart. "DG? DG?" Glitch came around the corner, holding Popsicle's reins while Stormrider trotted behind him. "DG!" he cried when he caught sight of the pair. "One of the soldiers from Sixth told me about Az. I got Popsicle from his stall and thought you'd want to ride out, too."

DG was thankful that it was too dark for her old friend to see how red her cheeks were. It was a good thing Raw wasn't in the vicinity, either-

"Glitch? Cain? DG?"

Too late. The Viewer came around the corner as well, frowning when he caught sight of the injured Tin Man. "Go find Azkadee," he said to Glitch and DG. "Help Cain to castle."

"I'm fine," Wyatt tried to protest, watching as DG mounted up. "Glitch, you'd better watch her," he warned.

The advisor saluted. "Gotcha!"

DG avoided Wyatt's eyes. There would be time enough to talk about what just happened. "Come on, let's go!" she ordered. She and Glitch headed straight for the tree line, leaving Raw and Wyatt alone. The Viewer looked at Wyatt curiously as he limped over to fetch his crutches. One didn't need to be an empath to read _that _swirl of emotion. Well, he thought, deciding that it was best to remain quiet. This was very, very interesting.

* * *

The path through the forest was even more treacherous in the gathering storm. The rain was cold and relentless, soaking all travelers despite the use of hooded rain cloaks. Jeb followed Windy and Anka's lead at a slow pace. Even the ever sure-footed Cloudrunners had to tread carefully now, for a half-hidden rock or tree root could spell disaster.

Jeb tried to tell himself that he wasn't worried about Azkadellia, but he knew in his heart that it was a lie. Over the past few months, circumstances hadn't kept them apart for more than a day. He'd looked forward to seeing her after the exercises. He'd wanted her with him, but it was logical to take Glitch in her stead. Both Jem and Az knew exactly what he wanted from the trainees, but Glitch needed to be told what to look for.

He'd grown accustomed to being there for her. Even though their meetings in the garden had grown infrequent as Rider training became more intense, there was some sort of comfort in knowing that it had become _their _place. That in a time of need, they could go and know that someone who cared would be there. It didn't matter who was in need. Somehow, they always knew when to come.

She needed him now, and it killed him to know that he wasn't with her. He knew that she feared the forest and the cave above all else. The worst possible feeling welled up in his chest when Micah told him that she'd allowed Az to go off by herself. It didn't matter that she couldn't have possibly known _not _to leave her there. At that moment, worry for Az had pierced his heart, sick and terrifying. She was alone, and only Lurline knew her state of mind. There was nothing else to be done. He had to bring her back.

That was why he couldn't lie about being worried. Right now, nothing mattered more than finding her.

Windy halted Cloudchaser on the path. "Commander Cain, the cave is up ahead and to the left," he said. "The path is too steep and covered in tree roots. You'd have to proceed on foot."

"All right, let me by. You and Anka stay here and await my orders." Jeb quickly dismounted and began negotiating the best possible path. The rain made the trail to the cave even more difficult to traverse, but he was determined. Strongwind trotted confidently at his back.

When Jeb finally spotted the cave, he couldn't help but blanch. Now he knew why Windy and Anka had stayed away, and why Azkadellia was so terrified of this place. Even now, the cave mouth seemed to suck the feeble light from the air around it into its pitch-black depths. He picked his way amongst the rocks, dreading what he would find. A thread of knowledge wormed its way into his head, though he didn't know from where it came. Az was here.

Out of the shadows of the entrance moved a figure blacker than night. He nearly drew his pistol before he realized just who it was. "Freeheart," he sighed. He should have known that the stallion would stand there, a silent guardian for his rider.

Jeb turned and hurried back to where Windy and Anka waited. "She's here," he said shortly. "I want you two to go and call off the search. There's no need for anyone to break his or her neck trampling about in this weather. Try and find Princess DG first. If she wants to come here-" There was no question about that. "-Escort her and then return to base camp."

"Is…is the Horsemistress all right?" Anka asked. Her voice was full of concern for the woman that she regarded as an older sister.

"I'm not sure," he responded truthfully. "But I'll get her back as soon as she's able. Now go!"

"Yes sir!"

Jeb watched them disappear down the path before he returned to the cave. Freeheart blocked the entrance as he approached. "Freeheart," he sighed, holding out his hand. "It's me. I have to see her."

The great stallion lowered his head until Jeb stared into those onyx eyes. There was so much intelligence reflected in those jewel-like depths that he froze to the spot. It was as though he was being weighed against the feather of truth in Vedu myth, and considering the living legend in front of him, perhaps it wasn't far from the truth. After what seemed like an eternity, Freeheart backed down, snorting with acquiescence as he shouldered past Jeb to stand with Strongwind beneath the overhang.

Once inside the cave, he took out the miniature lantern that hung from his belt and lit it, allowing its light to guide his steps. He paused when he came upon the writing on the wall, wishing he knew what it said. The picture language of the Ancients was an esoteric subject taught only in Shiz University's hallowed halls. Was it a warning? He could only assume so because of the cave's last occupant.

_There_. His footsteps quickened at the faint sounds that echoed from the depths of the tunnel. Jeb tried to suppress a shudder and failed miserably. He had never been in a place like this, where the layers of pain, suffering, and despair of many, many years had all but permeated the rocks of the cave until they seemed to be alive with negative emotions. Agony and hopelessness were almost tangible beings, clogging the air until one's lungs felt physically constricted by their presence.

He found her kneeling in front of what appeared to be a crumbling stone face. Her back was to him, but he didn't need to see her to know that she was in the throes of the deepest agony of the heart. He was so close to her that he could almost feel the overwhelming emotions that pulsed from her like her lifeblood. Here was where it all started. This was where everything had been ripped so cruelly from her grasp fifteen annuals before.

Azkadellia rocked, childlike, back and forth on the floor, her thin frame shaking like a leaf in a storm. His every instinct told him to run to her, to hold her and comfort her as he had so many times before. But this time felt different. This was a confrontation that she had to face alone. It was here and only here, aided by her own resilience and spirit, that she could truly face her demons and overcome them. His help, no matter how well-intentioned, would only be a hindrance.

But then she began to weep. The desperate sounds of her sobs tore at his heart and for all his promises to leave her alone, he reached out for her, wishing with everything he had that he could take away this pain. He wanted to do that for her, protect her from anything and everything that could make her hurt that much. The broken apology that fell from her lips and dissipated into the thin air of the cave was almost too much for him to bear. But it was the princess herself who stopped him, though she had delved so deep within herself that there was no possible way she could know that he was there.

"_Enough_."

Everything changed. Her shoulders, once slumped, were now straight and proud. And even though he could not see her face, he felt the clear, burning light of her unfocused gaze all the same. Every negative emotion seething through her seemed to drain away. Jeb felt like he could breathe again, and realized that even as she purged the darkness from herself, so too was she purging the darkness from the cave.

Here and now, Azkadellia had found her strength, and all that remained was for her to forgive and accept. He appreciated the symmetry of it all. It was in this forsaken place that her life had been taken from her, and it was here that she would take it back. It was humbling, that he could be here and witness this moment. It was everything that he could have ever wanted for her, and that was why he had to go. This was a part of the journey that she needed to make herself.

Jeb slowly turned and walked back towards the entrance. It did not matter how long it would take. He would wait, and protect her with everything he had. But that wasn't quite right, because he had already given her everything.

Because, he realized, with a startling rush of clarity, he was in love with her, and had loved her for quite some time. He barely had time to process that revelation when DG barreled into him. "Whoa there, DG," he said, grabbing her arms.

"Step aside, Jeb, I have to see Az." DG struggled with him, determined to get to her sister. "I will hurt you if you try to keep me from her, so help me god."

"DG, I swear to you that she is fine." He knew that the temptation to simply sweep Az up and hold her would be too great for DG, as it had nearly been for him. He spoke quickly and quietly. "She's not hurt and she's not in pain. But she needs to be alone right now."

DG stopped and looked at him. "Are you sure?" she said warily.

"I swear to Lurline, DG. She wouldn't thank any of us for disturbing her right now."

Her eyes narrowed as she mulled it over. "Still, I need to see it for myself," was the stubborn reply. Before he could say anything, she cut him off. "I promise that I won't touch her or disturb her. I just need to make sure." Her gaze turned pleading. "You understand that, don't you Jeb?"

As much as he wanted to deny it, he did. Wasn't that why he'd gone into the cave in the first place? "I do," he agreed, releasing her. "But you have to come back right away. We'll wait for her to come out on her own, right here."

DG nodded curtly and disappeared inside. Moments later she was back, her eyes wide and wondering. "I've never seen her like that before," she breathed. "I don't think I've ever seen _anyone _like that before. It's like…she's found nirvana."

If nirvana was something like the deepest form of peace, or heaven, Jeb could only agree. "Yes, she has."

Jeb stayed awake the rest of the night, even when DG finally gave in to exhaustion and fell asleep, sitting against the cave entrance and wrapped in a spare bedroll. As the hours dragged on, some of his anxiety returned and he began to pace.

It was only as the sun began to rise when he heard the footsteps. The moment he saw her face, it was as though the ground had dropped out from beneath his feet. She was radiant, peaceful, and finally _whole_. If the knowledge of his love for her hadn't already been made clear, it would have been blindingly so in this instant. Even so, the truth of it swept through him. His heart was, and always had been, hers.

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**Reviews are love. :)**

I am so sorry about the lag in updates. The mere process of getting ready to go to grad school is ridiculously frustrating, especially when your university decides to send all of your information a little bit at a time. It makes applying for a visa and registering a pain in the butt. My recent Stargate obsession hasn't been helping, either (but at least it's not stressful!).

Anyway, I just thought it would be a good idea to show what was happening while Az was in the cave. I know I didn't mention that DG was at the cave at the end of the last chapter, but it would have spoiled the fluffy moment. Besides, Az wouldn't have seen her at first, since she was sleeping off to the side. Many thanks go to poptate for briefly stepping into MatsuMama's beta shoes. :)


	24. Interlude: Tales From the Desert

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: "Coitus Musicalis/Victoria's Departure" from Corigliano: The Red Violin as played by Joshua Bell

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_"Tell me a story, Az." DG's drowsy voice filled the tent._

_ Az smiled. "Aren't you a little old for bedtime stories, little sister?"_

_ "One is never too old for bedtime stories," was her emphatic reply. DG shifted so that her head lay pillowed on Az's lap. "It's been a long, cold ride and we still have another day or so before we reach Finaqua. Please?"_

_ She never could resist DG when she used that tone of voice. "All right. What kind of story do you want?" Her long, capable fingers began combing through DG's thick, dark hair, which had become tangled by the long journey from the Northern Palace._

_ DG all but squirmed with delight under her sister's gentle ministrations. "Something different," she said. "Do you know any Vedu tales?"_

_ "Amirah told me quite a few of them. Are you sure you want a Vedu tale? Many of them do not end happily, or at least in a way that _we_ would consider happy."_

_ "It doesn't matter, Az. You tell the best stories." DG also wanted to get her sister's mind off the upcoming ordeal in Finaqua. If she got her thinking about the Vedu, so much the better. Az was always happy when she thought about the desert._

_ Az acquiesced. Clearing her throat, she began. "The tale of Iamar and Qurban is one of the greatest in Vedu legend. Theirs is a story of duty and sacrifice, and of the love they held for the Tribes."_

_ Her voice easily fell into a soft, rolling cadence that seemed to echo the tones of the desert wind. Outside the princesses' tent, four other pairs of ears pricked up at her opening words. Glitch and Raw curled deeper in the bedrolls of their respective tents, eagerly anticipating the rest of the story. Jeb and Wyatt Cain, who remained around the campfire, shifted in their seats, leaning forward in an unconscious movement to better receive the tale that she wove._

"_Iamar was the daughter of the sheikh of Bronze Scorpion. She was as fair as the moon that she was named after, with a heart as strong as the pounding sun and a spirit as indomitable as the desert wind. She was true and compassionate, and beloved by her people. Qurban was her steed, given to her when he was the newly-born colt of her father's most beloved sire and dam. Qurban was a true descendant of Iftekhar, the first Windrunner. His coat was the blazing gold of the desert sands, and there was no Windrunner in the entirety of the Great Desert that could run like he. He responded to no hand but Iamar's, for their hearts were as entirely one as two halves of a whole could ever be._

"_This was a time of great prosperity for the Tribes. Even though the Sundering of the Tribes had occurred only one hundred years past, each tribe had been blessed. Their numbers grew with each passing year, and there was always new and bountiful territory to explore. Those of White Antelope had successfully bred the first Cloudrunner. Red Fox had stopped their wandering upon the discovery of the Red Rocks. Black Lizard had finally defeated their enemies in Fliaan, never to be bothered again. And in the endless plains, Bronze Scorpion celebrated their champion horse and rider._

"_However, calamity soon struck the Tribes. A plague descended upon the people, sparing no one from its wrath. Those struck suffered from intense shivers that wracked their aching bodies, followed by bouts of sweating and extreme thirst. Most suffered from delirium before succumbing to a deep sleep from which they never returned. This enemy was called the Gray Sleep, and in a matter of months it had reduced the Tribes to half-strength. The effect was devastating. Prayers to Sheba went unanswered, and the surviving shamans' magic proved to be ineffectual to the point where the traveling sands would not respond to their call._

_ "It was Huzefa Abd al Aziz, Iamar's older brother and heir to Bronze Scorpion, who finally discovered the cure for the Gray Sleep after it claimed the life of their father. Sheba came to Huzefa in a dream and told him that the key to the cure lay in his father's blood. Those who still retained the strength to work spent all of their hours producing as much of the medicine as possible, so that no more of the Tribes would suffer from the disease._

_ "Iamar knew that only she and Qurban could deliver the medicine with any haste. The magic of the land was still uncertain, and the traveling sands remained useless. She packed as much of the medicine as possible and turned west for the Black Hills. It is said that the land itself lent its strength to Qurban, for he and his rider did not stop but to deliver the medicine to their brothers and sisters in Black Lizard, White Antelope, and Red Fox. The trip lasted but five days, and they had travelled thirty leagues each day._

_ "By the end of the five days, Iamar and Qurban's journey and purpose were complete. Their duty had taken all of their life strength, but still they rode on so that they could set eyes on their home one last time. They returned to the Bronze Plains on the sixth day. Iamar died in her brother's arms, with Qurban following his mistress swiftly after. Huzefa changed the family name to Abd al Jawwad after their sacrifice. Abd al Jawwad means 'servant of the generous,' for Sheba was so generous as to give Iamar and Qurban to save the Tribes."_

_Az stopped then, her words fading away into the night._

_DG was silent for a moment. "It's a beautiful story," she admitted. "But how was Sheba generous? Iamar and Qurban _died_ in the end."_

"_But if Sheba had not allowed Iamar and Qurban to be born to the Tribes, they would not have been there to make that journey. Huzefa never would have been able to distribute the cure in time. Iamar, as a member of the sheikh's family, knew that a necessary sacrifice could be asked of her at any time, as all who serve their countries do. Perhaps on some level, Qurban did too. After all, the meaning of 'Qurban' is 'sacrifice,'" she pointed out._

_DG had to admit that Az was right. As members of the House of Gale, their whole family could be asked to put their lives on the line for the O.Z., and they would gladly do so. "Okay. Do you really think the land – I assume that means the Great Desert – gave Iamar and Qurban the strength and speed to do complete their mission?"_

_Az chuckled. "Anything is possible. But I think it had more to do with Iamar and Qurban's own strength and willpower…and their love for each other and the Tribes."_

"_How so?"_

"_Well, I can relate to Iamar. She would have been propelled by the driving need to fulfill her duty, but that wouldn't have been enough to get her through those five days, especially when it began to take a toll on her body. Even with magic, the task seems impossible. It would have been easy to simply fall into despair, but she had Qurban. His utter faith and resolve in his rider gave her the strength to go on and save their people."_

"_I could see that," DG murmured, her voice getting heavier with the approaching oblivion of sleep. "It's like you and Freeheart. You two would do the same thing, although I hope you'd never have to."_

"_Yes, we would," Az agreed. "But I don't think you have to worry about that, Deeg."_

"_Okay." She fell asleep then, still curled against her sister._

"_Sleep well, little sister." Az remained awake for some time, considering DG's words. Though Freeheart did come to mind, most of her thoughts centered on Jeb. How many times had she fallen into the depths of despair, only to have him pull her back? How many times would she have stumbled back into the darkness of her own guilt and blame, had he not shown her another way? Jeb had the same faith and belief for her that Qurban had for Iamar. It was because of him that she had the strength to face each day and believe that she could work with her people to give the O.Z. a brighter future._

"_For their hearts were as entirely one as two halves of a whole could ever be," she repeated softly, knowing that it was becoming too difficult to deny her feelings for the commander. She crawled into her bedroll and for once, allowed herself to dream of what could be._

_Outside, Glitch and Raw were already fast asleep. Wyatt motioned for Jeb to get some sleep so that he could take the next watch. Jeb retired to his own tent, Azkadellia's words still resonating in his head._

_That night, he dreamed of a woman whose beauty and Light were more radiant than the sun; her companion was a stallion that shone just as brightly. Together, they flew over the O.Z. Darkness fled before them, only to be purified by their fire, and everything that they touched was born anew.

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_

**Pleas****e review!**

Soooo...I missed the Vedu and this was the only way I could sneak them in. For now, at least. ;)**  
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	25. A New Day

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: Fasch: Concerto In E For Trumpet, Oboe D'Amore, Violin, Strings & Continuo, Affettuoso

* * *

Az and DG ran out over the grounds of Finaqua, their squeals and laughs floating through the air. Their sound was joyous and lighthearted, the epitome of playful youth. Their bare feet kicked up sprays of white sand that glittered like diamonds in the sunlight, bright against the jeweled satins of their skirts.

"You can't catch me!" Az called over her shoulder.

"You just wait! I ran track in high school!" DG bellowed, putting on an extra burst of speed, hitching her jade skirts higher. "Just not in skirts!"

Az's giggle floated back as she broke into a ground-eating lope. She made it halfway around the lake before she came to a stop, collapsing back onto the soft sand with a happy sigh.

"You run like a freaking gazelle," DG informed her as she caught up. She plopped into the sand, sprawling in a graceless heap. "Where did that come from?"

"The Vedu call it being horse-blooded," was the thoughtful reply. "As to the speed, I don't really know where it comes from. I only discovered it when I started running laps with the trainees."

DG's cornflower blue eyes narrowed accusingly. "You're not even breathing hard!"

"Neither are you," Az pointed out with a laugh. "If you want to make accusations of athletic ability, you should look at yourself first. You were always running and climbing all over things as a child. Did you continue any of that on the Other Side? What is this 'track'?"

DG spread her skirts around her and began plucking rushes for braiding. Perhaps Mother would appreciate a new bookmark. "I did some rock climbing. I was really good at that." Her tongue stuck out the side of her mouth as she began to braid. "Maybe I'll get Glitch to make some climbing equipment for me. I saw some really great boulders and cliff faces in the Great Kells. Track is a sport that includes running, jumping, and throwing events. I was good at sprinting and long jump."

"I would have loved to see that. Were you good, Deeg? I'm sure you were."

"Pretty decent." The corners of her lips curled upwards. "I won a few medals here and there, especially for the 200 meter. Mom and Popsicle – Hank and Emily – probably have some of my meets in their vid files."

Az felt a slight pang in her chest. There were so many things that she'd missed out on while DG grew up on the Other Side. "I'll ask them the next time I see them." She'd ask to see a few other things, too.

Motion on the other side of the lake drew the two sisters' attention.

"What on earth?" DG muttered, shading her eyes. In the distance, two figures dove off the docks and into the lake, their bodies cutting through the crystal blue waters with relative ease. Just before they hit the water, the sun glinted off hair as richly gold as Az's dress.

"Of course Jeb and Wyatt would be racing laps around the lake on a rest day," she grumbled. "I shouldn't be surprised, and yet I am."

Az sat up, squinting as she peered at the two. "Who's winning?"

DG tilted her head to the side, considering. "Well, Jeb's got a swimmer's body. Long and lean, powerful shoulders and arms, narrow hips. He's got speed and agility going for him, too. But Wyatt's got sheer brute strength and endurance. In that kind of match, the last lap is the real deciding factor."

Az chose to overlook DG's assessment. But something her sister had said something twice now that caught her attention. It could mean everything or it could mean nothing, and she knew what she hoped it could be. "Since when is Commander Cain 'Wyatt' to you, Deeg?" She had the distinct pleasure of watching her younger sibling's face suffuse with color.

"Since…since I thought it would be confusing to yell out 'Cain' when Jeb's around." That excuse was lame, even to her ears. She knew Az would call her out on it.

"DG." Sure enough, Az fixed her with a look that was eerily similar to their mother's. "You're a terrible liar, especially to me. Did something happen with you two during field exercises?"

There was a long, drawn-out silence. "Nothing happened during the exercises!" DG said eventually. She looked away. She'd tried so hard not to think about what happened, and worrying about Az in the forest had helped a great deal. But Az had returned in a matter of hours, radiantly whole. DG's mind had insisted on focusing on other things. Namely, the Kiss. "It was _after _the exercises."

Great job, mouth, DG thought sarcastically. Just go on flapping without input from the brain, why don't you?

"_What _happened after the exercises?" Az's voice was sharp with excitement. "And no takeaways, little sister."

"Take-backs, Az."

She fought the urge to smack her sister on the head. "Stop avoiding the subject, DG."

DG muttered her confession underneath her breath, but Az's keen ears caught it anyway. "Blessed Ozma, you two finally k-" Her loud exclamation was cut off as DG tackled her back into the sand, clapping a hand over her mouth.

"Az, do you _want _everyone in Finaqua proper to know what happened?" she hissed, the tips of her ears burning red. She didn't want the other guilty party to know that she'd spilled the beans, especially when he was swimming laps only a few yards away with his son. "And what do you mean, finally?"

"Do you really need to ask?" Az's voice was muffled. "Deeg, you can't be that oblivious."

DG wanted to point out that this was a serious case of the pot calling the kettle black. Az was worse than oblivious – she was _willfully _oblivious. For DG, everything leading up to and including the kiss had been a surprise. But Az? Her dear, brilliant, and woefully stubborn-as-a-donkey older sister simply refused to believe that Jeb Cain could love her that way. Even when all of the evidence pointed to the contrary. Hell, he'd been the one to find and wait for her at the cave, pacing for hours in the cold, damp hours of the night and early morning. If that wasn't love, DG would eat her leather jacket.

"I'm not oblivious, Az. Not anymore, at least. Thanks for asking." DG rolled onto her back and contemplated the sky. "It's just that I probably wouldn't have looked at Wyatt twice on the Other Side."

"Why ever not? Don't tell me that men are so handsome over there that you can afford to overlook a man like him!"

"No, it's definitely not that," DG laughed. There had been too many freckled farm boys and hick football players in her life on the Other Side. Just like he did here, Wyatt Cain would stand as a man apart on the Other Side. "It's just…over there, he wasn't my type. Still isn't, really. I usually don't go for the grumpy guys."

Az snorted. Grumpy was an understatement.

DG continued. "But…I like that he's so grumpy. I like being able to charm him out of it." Her voice grew soft. "When I get him to smile…_really _smile, it's like winning the lottery. It's as though he's bringing out this side of him that's been buried by all of the pain and anguish and loss. When that happens, things just fall into place." She shrugged helplessly.

Cool fingers slipped between hers. "You're the one that brings out that side of him, Deeg. You and you alone. That's something special." When her little sister shook her head mutely, she continued. "You've given him hope and a chance to have a new beginning. Why shouldn't you like seeing him happy?"

"I don't know, Az. This is all kind of new for me, you know? I had a few boyfriends on the Other Side, but it was never anything serious. This…scares me. Especially when I wonder how much of his heart died with her."

Adora Cain. Of course DG would be afraid of living in the shadow of Wyatt's wife. "I think you're underestimating his capacity for love," she said slowly. "Mother always says that a heart that knows love can only grow bigger."

DG sighed. "But you can't deny that there are people that love once and that's it. Like those little old ladies who still talk about their Johnny."

That was true. Sheikh Jaasir was one of those people. He had told her that there would never be another woman for him but Hala. "Still, Deeg, you're never going to know if you don't do anything about it." She grinned. "Although, I'd say something has already been done. How was it?" Her eyes sparkled.

"Too short," was the grumbled reply. "Although it sure as hell promised a lot." She glanced at her sister and laughed at her expression. "What's with the Cheshire grin?"

"I don't have nearly enough teeth for that kind of grin, Deeg," Az said flippantly. "Now, I need more details!"

DG frowned. "Hold on now, Cheshire is an Other Side thing. I'm pretty sure I've never mentioned him before, so how do you know him?"

Now it was Az's turn to give her sister a strange look. "Cheshire, on the Other Side? No, he's definitely from this side of the universe, little sister."

DG opened her mouth to argue when a new sound caught her attention. She turned her head and promptly lost every coherent thought in her head. Wyatt and Jeb were coming out of the water nearby, trading good-natured quips.

She'd thought that there was no better sight than Wyatt Cain, freshly shaved and sporting a particularly tight pair of trousers. It turned out that there was something a whole lot better. Her appreciative gaze took in every detail of his solidly built rugby player's body. There were football players on the Other Side who were positively skinny in comparison to him. She mentally drooled as she followed the path of the water droplets that made their way down his muscled chest, idly wishing that her fingertips could follow in their stead.

And holy saints above, those waterlogged trousers left _nothing _to the imagination. Her libido chose that moment to remind her that it was still active and boy did it want attention.

She nudged her sister. "Get a load of _that,_" she said, jerking her head in their direction. "If there was a ladies' pin-up calendar in the O.Z., they'd definitely be the starring attractions. Wyatt would be Mr. July for sure. The hotties are _always _put in the summer months."

"What in Lurline's name are you…" Az trailed off as she followed her sister's gaze. She promptly turned scarlet and looked away, but not before Jeb's image burned itself in her mind. DG's earlier assessment had been right on the mark. He was simply one long line of sinewy, corded muscle. Sunlight caught the wetness that clung to every ridge and disappeared into every curve and dip, accentuating his build. The water forced his blond curls to hang into his eyes, giving him a distinctly rakish look.

Dear Ozma help me, Az prayed. Maybe they wouldn't even notice that she and DG were sitting over here. Yes, any moment they'd turn and make their way back to the castle and not even know they'd given their princesses an eyeful-

"Good morning DG, good morning Az." Jeb's cheerful voice filtered through her jumbled thoughts.

"Jeb!" DG sounded far too delighted for her own good. Az wondered when her sister had become such a wonderful actress. She'd been so close to maudlin only a few minutes ago, although the sight before them almost certainly guaranteed a complete change in mood. "Was that race really necessary? Field exercises were only a day ago!"

"No rest for the wicked." There was Wyatt, his voice as dry as the desert sands. "Good morning, princess." Oh, now _that _was an interesting tone of voice. Az cracked open an eye. Sure enough, there was a slight tinge to DG's cheeks. "Good morning, Azkadellia."

"Good morning Mr. Cain, Jeb." Az tried hard to stare at a point somewhere over Jeb's left shoulder without making it obvious that she wasn't making any sort of eye contact. "It's a fine morning, isn't it?"

"And getting better," Jeb murmured under his breath. He was unable to take his eyes off Az, as he had been since she'd stumbled out of the cave the morning before. Every time they were in the same room he could do nothing but stare. She was absolutely radiant right now, sitting in a pool of sunlight in a dress the color of daisies.

Wyatt aimed a sideways glance at his son. The look on his face was practically lovesick. It was almost amusing, until he wondered with dawning horror if he was sporting a similar look because of DG. While circumstances had certainly changed with that rather spectacular release of pent-up feelings two days earlier, there were things that he would never willingly stoop to – teenage displays of mooning being one of them. He'd never been like that with Adora, and he certainly wasn't going to start now.

Even if DG looked like a breath of fresh air, sitting there with a lapful of braided rushes.

He shifted on his heels, suddenly uncomfortably aware of his state of undress. He did not know whether he should be alarmed or gratified by the way DG was looking at him. Whatever the case, this was _not _an appropriate situation. "Uh-" he began.

Az scowled inwardly, not noticing the awkward silence that had fallen over the group. This was just ridiculous. She was an adult, so she had better well act like one. She looked up and fastened her gaze to Jeb's and almost faltered at the intensity reflected in those blue depths. The look in his eyes was the same as it had been when she stumbled out of the cave. Pushing her quivering nerves aside, she spoke up. "Shall we sit down with Jem and Glitch later on to discuss the field exercises? I think we should discuss what to do from here on out."

Her all-business attitude knocked Jeb right out of his reverie. "Oh," he said, blinking at the change in topic. "Yes, of course. If there's a room we can use-" A strong breeze off the lake reminded him that his breeches were quite waterlogged. "After we eat. And have a bath." Ozma save him, he was babbling like an idiot.

"Nah, just come as you are," DG drawled, recovering herself. Her eyes danced merrily. "We've enjoyed the show." She ignored Az's hissed "Deeg!"

Jeb turned scarlet. He was half-naked in front of the princesses. In front of _Azkadellia_. In an echo of his father's thoughts, he realized how out-of-place he and his father were. "Nope, that's quite all right. If you'll excuse me." He bowed shortly and left as quickly as he could without seeming rude. DG had to hide a smile at his all-too-apparent embarrassment. Az, of course, was unaware.

"We'll see you later," Wyatt said casually as he followed his son away. He shot DG a look that promised to return to their unfinished business. It was all she could do to keep from shivering – though if it was from fear or anticipation, she couldn't say.

* * *

"Is that the end of the list?" Jeb asked Gordy, ignoring the emptiness in his stomach. The cup of tea that sat in front of him had long since gone cold, having been poured at mid-afternoon. Now, he thought, looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows of Finaqua Castle's uppermost room, the sun was beginning to set. Fires were already going in the camps of the trainees and the men of Sixth. The servants had already been in to light the outdated gas lamps on the walls and to inform them when dinner would be served. Glitch had been particularly unnerving, constantly grumbling under his breath about the costs of utility upgrades.

"Yes, Commander Cain."

"Everyone's performance has been evaluated, then."

Jem frowned. "Not everyone's, Jeb. We still have not discussed the matter of Micah." He was reluctant to bring that to attention, but he knew his duty.

"And on that note, I'm off," Glitch announced, standing up from the table. "This really doesn't concern me, and there are some books in the library I've been dying to get my hands on."

"But what about dinner, Glitch?" DG asked.

The former headcase shrugged. "I'll sneak into the kitchens. Chef loves me…I think." With a jaunty bow, he exited the room. There was a long and uncomfortable pause in the wake of his exit before anyone spoke.

"Yes, Micah," Jeb muttered. He gritted his teeth, remembering how utterly unconcerned the woman had looked when confronted over Az's absence. "I have half a mind to expel her from the group. Riders leave _no one _behind." His voice was fierce, echoing off the rose-colored marble that covered almost every surface in the room. "Then there is the insubordination, which is no small matter as well."

Jem was watching his friend and commander closely and knew the implacable look in his eyes. And while his heart protested, his brain knew what was to be done. Micah would have been ejected from the Royal Army for either one of those infarctions, let alone both. "I understand, Jeb."

"You're not expelling her." Az's voice cut through the uncomfortable silence. Four pairs of eyes swung to her, astonished. Gordy's eyes darted between the adults seated at the table.

"Excuse me?" Jeb asked.

"You heard me, Jeb. Micah will not be suspended," she said calmly. "And she should be taken off probation while we're at it."

"Az, what are you thinking?" DG asked softly. "This woman has made your life a living hell for the past few months with the Riders, don't deny it. She's been nothing but a big bully and you're just going to let her get away with it? Jeb's right, she just left you in the forest-"

"For which I am grateful." Az pushed away from the table and walked over to the window just as the last rays of the sun vanished beyond the horizon. The flickering flames of the gas lights deepened the shadows on her face. "While many of my interactions with her have not been ideal-" She ignored DG's disbelieving snort. "I would not change the events that transpired in the forest. _Any _of them."

Wyatt leaned back in his chair. "What exactly happened with you two, Highness?"

"I'm afraid that's between Micah and myself, Mr. Cain," was the soft reply.

"Why are you standing up for her, Az?" Jeb was confused. There was no vengeance in Az, he knew that as clearly as he knew his own name. But he thought she would have been relieved to be rid of someone who had been a thorn in her side for so long.

The princess turned from the window. "Because she is a good woman and you know it, Jeb." But her gaze fell on Jem, whose lips were pressed together in a bleak line as he stared, unseeing, at the sheets of paper before him. At Az's words he looked up and a long look passed between them, full of thanks and understanding. "Just as you also know that in time, she will make a fine leader for the Riders."

DG glowered. There was a whole lot of subtext flying around her that she wasn't quite getting. "Well, that's all well and good," she mumbled. "But I still don't like her."

Az laughed quietly. "No one is asking you to, Deeg. She's a hard person to get to know. But I am asking that she be given another chance." Now she looked at Jeb, though from her tone of voice, it was nothing like a supplication, but a demand.

Jeb sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. Az's request was nothing short of surprising. Yes, he knew that Micah was a good woman, but he'd been more than frustrated with her inability to accept Az. The incident in the forest had been the last straw, even if he knew nothing of what happened. His imagination filled in the lines for him. Az had been too slow to hide the bruises on her neck from him when she'd come out of the witch's cave. It was only his preoccupation with her safety and state of mind that had kept Micah out of his mind for the past two days. "Mercy, Az?" he inquired softly.

"It's a start, isn't it?" she countered. "The witch had none." The fact that she did not flinch as she mentioned her was a testament as to how far she'd come.

The commander grinned in spite of himself. "I am rebuked. Fine. Micah stays. But I'm reserving the right to put her back on suspension with the option of expulsion if there's any funny business – and I mean it."

Az bowed her head in acquiescence, but not before Jeb caught the sparkle of triumph in her eyes. I'll let you have this battle, my – no, not my Az. Just Az, he thought. But only because it means so much to you. If it were up to me, she would be gone for everything she's done to you.

DG was distracted from her own misgivings by the look on Jeb's face. By golly, he's _whipped_, she thought gleefully. Things were just getting better and better.

"Is that everything, Gordy?" Jeb asked.

The page was still recovering from the surprising nature of the discussion he'd been privy to. "Y-yes, commander. I have both lists."

"So, we're all agreed." Despite the solemnity of the previous discussion topic, nothing could stop the twinkle in his eyes or the twitch of his mouth. "We've got two Rider groups."

Jem tossed his pencil down, not even bothering to keep the smile from spreading across his own face. Micah was _staying_. "Aye, we do. But we have to call them something other than First and Second."

"Why?"

"Because the Royal Army calls the companies by numerical names," Az said. "People are bound to get confused."

"And with their rivalry, they're not going to like having the same names," Wyatt added. Neither the Riders nor the Royal Army needed any excuse to escalate the Prank War.

"Point, Jeb admitted. "So, any ideas?"

His father tapped his own pencil against the table. "Why don't you let each group decide on their own once you've posted the assignments? It'll mean a lot for them to name themselves."

"That's a good idea." Jeb nodded decisively. "All right then. We'll post the lists in the morning and see where we go from there. They may be official, but they still need training with their groups."

"Mother will want a formal instatement ceremony," DG piped up. Both Jeb and Jem grimaced at the thought of the Riders' instatement being made into a public spectacle.

There was a soft knock on the door and a servant came in to announce that dinner was served. The group sprang up from the table, eager for food and the coming day when they could break the good news to the new Riders.

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**_Please review!_**

*grovels* I am so, so sorry for the inexcusably long wait for this chapter. Unfortunately, when real life decides to step in, it really kind of just bowls you over. Grad school is _tough_, but I am loving every second of it. Yes, even the poster and three essays that are due by the second week of next month. At least there are no exams...and at least I'm in England! It's truly lovely here, which will provide for some ample inspiration once I can spare some time to actually jot things down. I'll be honest with you guys, we're starting to enter a crucial part of the story and I am loathe to post anything (or even write some of the bigger bits) without loads of input from my wonder-beta (MatsuMama, who is every bit as busy and burdened with the dreaded _real life_). What can I say, I'm a needy writer. So please be patient with me...I want to make sure that you guys are getting the best possible story that I can write.**_  
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	26. Revelations

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: "Atonement" from the Atonement soundtrack once we get into Micah's POV, then on to "The Secret Life of Daydreams" from the Pride and Prejudice soundtrack. Yes, it's a Jean-Yves Thibaudet kind of chapter.

* * *

"Listen up, Riders!" Jeb walked into the camp the next morning. He grinned as a few bleary eyes swung his way. "I know it's early, but I'll keep it brief. If you'll direct your attention over to the gates, Gordy's got a surprise for you."

Anka frowned as she perched on an overturned log, a mug of tea clasped between her hands. It _was _still early in the morning, so there were a few things she had to mull over. The first thing was that Commander Cain had called them _Riders_. He only ever called them trainees. The second thing was that Gordy was putting up two sheets of paper on the gate.

Her eyes widened as she turned to Windy, whose own shell-shocked expression meant that he'd arrived at the same conclusion. They were Riders now, which could only mean that those sheets were- "Assignments," they breathed. Windy bolted with Anka hard on his heels, having put her mug down in a safe place first.

Jeb chuckled as some of the younger Riders followed the two youngsters' example, while the older men and women chose to saunter up in a more casual manner. Wild whoops filled the air as they found their names. Windy hugged Anka fiercely because they were put together in the Second Rider Group – as if there had been any doubt to the contrary. Both Jem and Az had commented on how well they worked together in the field. "Are you not going to go up and check?" he teased Bo and Sula, who remained by the fire.

"Are the results really that surprising?" Sula asked, raising an eyebrow. Bo, who had just put a spoonful of porridge to his mouth, almost choked.

"Sula, remember our talk about modesty?"

"What, that I don't have any?" Her look was one of pure devilment as he started to cough in earnest. Jeb laughed and patted his old friend on the back.

"Sula has a point on both of those counts, my friend." He settled down beside them. "You have nothing to worry about." Everyone had more or less remained in the groups they'd been put in during the field exercises, and every trainee had passed, though there was still room for improvement for many of them.

The brunette's sharp eyes narrowed speculatively. "And what about other people?" she asked lightly, jerking her head at Micah, who looked to like she was losing some internal battle. Indeed, as Jeb turned his head, her chin firmed and she also rose from her seat to approach the lists, though she looked as though she was walking to the gallows.

Jeb watched Micah for a few moments more before he shook his head. "No one has cause to worry," he said. "Though it will do many of them well to learn some humility."

"And what force was it that stopped you from teaching her a lesson in humility yourself?" was Bo's mild question. He appeared to have completely recovered from his bout with the porridge and was now looking at Jeb with interest.

Sula rolled her eyes with disgust. "As if you have to ask. Men!"

"And what do you know of it, Sula?" Jeb asked as a slow flush appeared on his cheeks.

"I've got eyes in my head, haven't I?" the petite woman retorted.

"What's _that _supposed to mean?" both men asked at the same time.

She sniffed. "If you can't see the damned thing yourselves then I'm not going to point it out to you." She got up to wash her bowl while Jeb and Bo exchanged bewildered glances.

In the meantime, Micah had reached the gate, preparing herself for every possibility. She knew Jeb and she knew that her suspension could mean permanent exile from the Riders. A future without the Riders was as bleak to her as any future could be. She'd worked herself to the bone for them and she'd be damned if any witch-

She cut off that thought with a savage shake of her head. Her emotions were still in a tumult since her encounter with _her _in the forest. So many things had not added up, no matter how many times she went over those events in her head. Micah still remembered the depth of absolute sadness and resignation in those purple eyes, eyes that had haunted her dreams since. The w- _she _had not fought back at all. She had accepted that her death was at hand – at Micah's hands. What kind of person did that?

_A good one_, whispered a voice in her head. It sounded like Jem when he was in one of his more sanctimonious moods. That kind of mood infuriated Micah to no end because more often than not he was right.

She hated it when he was right because it was never easy to admit that she was wrong.

But had Micah really been so wrong in this? The witch had taken away the only family left to her. Fallon had been her whole world since the desert had swallowed their parents' caravan as they crossed the Great Sandy Waste to Quox. She'd adored her little brother, and he her. When their country fell under the hand of the witch, it had been the natural decision for both of them to join the Resistance. She trusted Jeb with their lives, for even though he was so much younger than she and only a bit older than Fallon, there were already whispers of his greatness.

But then Fallon was ripped from her, as cruelly as their parents had been ripped from them, and life would never be the same. Micah had gone mad after her brother's murder, she knew that. She had no recollection of the days after she'd received the news (she would not think about the grim stretcher bearing his body, covered in blood-stained cloth), only that they were drenched in darkness and insensibility.

What she did know was that Jem had stayed by her side during that whole time, for the few recollections she had were of his hands, warm and strong as they held her, and his voice, low and soothing as he spoke to her in words both nonsensical and profound.

When she emerged from her grief, it was vengeance that drove her. Now it seemed so hollow, so wrong. So much of her life had revolved around the destruction of the witch and now it seemed like that enemy was gone and had been for quite some time. What was left for her, now that her vengeance had no direction?

The voice whispered in her head once more but Micah ignored it for she was now facing the lists. She scanned the names for the first group of Riders as though she were in a daze, knowing that her own name would not be there. Then she moved on to the second list, dreading its absence there as well.

But it was there, right below Jem's: Second-In-Command, Micah of Old Pastoria.

Her mind went blank for a moment. She turned away, vaguely registering the congratulations heaped upon her by the other Riders. She needed answers and she knew where to find them.

Jem was leaning against a nearby tree with his arms crossed across his broad chest, his gaze inscrutable. Odd, she thought. She usually knew his moods right away. They truly had drifted so far apart, and a dull, throbbing pain settled in her gut at that realization. And so in true Micah fashion, she hid it.

"I suppose I have you to thank, then?" she said shortly as she stopped in front of him. It was so very much the opposite of what she wanted to say, but she had no experience with those softer words or emotions. Even as the words spilled out of her mouth she knew how wrong they were. "You know that I need no interference, especially from you-"

A shadow passed over Jem's face. The resignation was so similar and yet different to the one on the w- _her _face that Micah stopped. And since when did he look so tired? "It's not me you need to thank, Micah. I could do naught for you."

The pain was no longer dull and throbbing but sharp and stabbing. Had she truly gone so far then, that he'd lost all regard for her? Why did that matter so much? "W-what are you saying, Jem Switzer?"

"I'm saying that the Horsemistress was the one who kept you from outright expulsion from the Riders, Micah." When she said nothing he continued on. "I don't know what happened with you two, but I can guess. Jeb told me about the bruises on her neck."

Micah could not help it. She flinched. She remembered the white-hot rage even now, and was vaguely ashamed of it. "And?" If he was condemning her for what she'd done, then she would face it. She had never feared punishment or pain and she wouldn't begin now, even if it was coming from Jem.

"And yet she stood up for you last night. If I were you, Micah, I would go to her now and thank her for what she's done. And when you're finished, you'll come back to me and we'll have a good long talk about what it means for you to stay and be a Rider." His black gaze was direct. "Times have changed, Micah, and we have to change with them."

"I-" She was speechless.

"_Go_."

Her shock was so great that her movements were stiff and mechanical as she walked away. Why would Azkadellia stand up for her after everything she'd done?

* * *

Az sat in the pavilion overlooking the lake, swinging back and forth on the reinstalled rope swing. It was so very peaceful to rock back and forth, simply enjoying the beauty of Finaqua with no taint of the past to ruin the experience.

This did not mean that she would forget the events that transpired here. She'd come to accept the fact that there were things that would stay with her, for better and for worse. Now she knew that they made her stronger. She was not afraid to face the path that was now laid before her. She was Azkadellia Rosamund Gale, Princess of the O.Z, and she would prevail.

She promptly burst into giggles at her own folly. How pompous she sounded!

Still, it was the truth. She would not shrink from the criticism that was heaped upon her. She knew that there was nothing of the witch inside her now, nothing but memories of a time best left remembered as a lesson. It would not do to forget the witch because it was always better to have a reminder as to what could happen when darkness fell. No, the O.Z. could never forget the witch. But they could move on, as Az had, and learn from the experience.

Az gazed over the lake. The future seemed to hold so much promise now. She had always hoped that the O.Z. could move on and now it seemed truly possible. Finaqua was the best example. It had been scorched, the palace destroyed. Thanks to DG it was as beautiful as ever. The O.Z. and her people could do the same. "And out of the darkest night comes the sweetest morning light," she murmured, quoting one of the Ancients' spells of renewal. She reached instinctively for the Light within her, reveling in its warmth.

She had peace now and a chance for joy. Her time in the cave had given her a gift. Now she had the chance to live the life that she chose, one where her magic would only be used for good. She would never take that for granted.

That was how Micah found her, eyes closed and glowing in a way that had nothing to do with the sunlight that spilled over the lake – and everything to do with magic. And yet she was not afraid. There was nothing threatening here, nothing to put her on edge. Strange, for she'd never liked seeing the Horsemistress perform magic, never more so than that confrontation a few days earlier when her shields had kept them trapped together.

Micah observed the woman in front of her. They were of an age, the two of them. Ozma save her, she didn't even know what to call her anymore. When had things become so confused? In the end, she cleared her throat. "Horsemistress."

Az's eyes flew open as she let the Light sink back beneath her skin. "Hello, Micah."

It was a foregone conclusion that they would meet again. Az was not willing to leave things the way they'd been left in the forest. She wanted them to come to an understanding, if not a truce. DG always said that the redhead was a lost cause, but one could always hope.

Besides, she had always admired Micah. Yes, she had a long list of flaws, but who didn't? She was resilient in a way that Az envied, pushing through despite what other people thought of her. Indeed, sometimes she was overzealous in her refusal to care, but Az had always wished for skin as thick as hers. It would come in handy as a member of the royal family who was always subject to intense scrutiny. Even as a child, she'd been more sensitive to public opinion than most.

"Please, come in and have a seat." Az gestured to the padded benches that had been added to the perimeter of the pavilion.

"I'll stand, if it pleases you," was the stiff reply. Az inclined her head with acceptance. Micah paced back and forth for a moment, eyeing Azkadellia out of the corner of her eye. There was something different about the woman sitting before her, something that Micah hadn't seen in the past few months. "You've changed," she said bluntly, coming to a stop.

This conversation was certainly getting off on a strange foot. "I have," she admitted, folding her hands on her lap. "I…am at peace with myself now."

That was an enigmatic statement at best. Micah frowned slightly. She'd never had any patience with ambiguity. "What?"

"I'm not the witch." Az regarded her, amethyst eyes level and sober. "I never have been. I wish you would understand that. Do you know what it's like to be bound by shadows of the past? It is what has bound us all to her, even when she has disappeared from the face of this land. But we must move on." There was passion and conviction in her voice.

A denial was on the tip of her tongue before Micah stopped. Was she not bound by the tragic death that had left her and Fallon orphaned? Was she not bound by her duty to her little brother? But most of all, hadn't his death plagued her, haunted her, pushed her, for the past few years? "As you have?" she said finally.

"As I have," Az agreed.

Micah was still confused. She shook her head slightly. "I didn't come here for a philosophical discussion," she muttered. "All this talk does nothing but make my head hurt."

"What did you come for, then?"

Why had she come, indeed? She ran her work-roughened hands over her trousers and thought about how tired she was – and that was when it came to her. The tangle of emotions that had plagued her since the forest suddenly made sense. She was weary. She was weary of being so angry all of the time. It took so much of her to be that way, and for nothing.

That was a humbling thought. Rage had sustained her throughout the witch's reign and kept her from going completely insane after Fallon's death. But after the Double Eclipse there was no reason for it anymore. Not until she came to the Riders but even then, she realized, her emotions were misplaced. There was no room for that kind of driving vengeance amongst the Riders, only a need for justice. So she'd focused on the Horsemistress, the very image of the one who'd brought so much ruin to the O.Z. and its people.

But the effort in hating her and needling her was draining too. Especially when Azkadellia made no signs that Micah's actions affected her in any sort of way. She simply carried on with her tasks while others around her took exception to Micah's taunts and insults. It was like battling a mountain and even Micah knew when a battle was futile. She wanted to know why, after everything she'd done to Azkadellia, she'd stood up for her.

"Why did you do it? Why did you keep me in the Riders?"

Az was quiet for a moment. "Because everyone deserves a second chance."

The redhead spared her a sharp glance. "I won't be bribed."

For the first time, she saw a flash of anger in those eyes. "You're insulting both of us by implying that I'm trying to do so."

This was more familiar territory for Micah. She instantly relaxed. The woman in front of her was suddenly more accessible, more human, for the irritation she displayed. "So I've vexed you now, have I?" she said, amused. "You can't blame me for wanting to know."

"I still resent the implication," Az said stiffly. "You have proven yourself in the field exercises. The Riders need someone like you." She was so weary of being needled by the woman in front of her. If she were a more petty person, she would have retracted her statement and rendered Micah unfit for duty.

So the Horsemistress was in a snit, but hadn't turned her into something horrible or sucked out her soul. No, she just sounded like Bo when he was in one of his more prissy moods. Micah found that she could respect her for the spectacular hold she had on her temper – and it was damned refreshing to see that she had one. That was more reassuring than the tranquility she'd seen earlier. "All right then. But you'd like us to trade second chances all the same."

"I-" Az was caught off-balance. She scanned Micah's face, but it remained unreadable. However, there had been something in her tone of voice, something that made it seem like she was unbending. "I would like us to have a truce," she ventured, unsure. "For the sake of the Riders and our friends."

"Truce," Micah murmured. The uncertainty spoke well for her, too. And she had to admit that Azkadellia had an admirable work ethic and a drive to succeed that matched her own. Perhaps she truly had been wrong about her all along. Her mind made up, Micah marched forward, her hand extended. "We'll try it, then."

Az stared at the hand in front of her. Slowly, a smile spread across her face as she stood to shake it. "Thank you."

There was something like satisfaction in those glass-green eyes. "Well, at least you've got proper calluses," she commented. "No lily-soft princess hands."

"That's because I work for a living," Az retorted.

Micah smiled wryly. "Well said." She stepped back and hesitated. "I'm sorry about what happened in the forest." She eyed the yellowing bruises on Az's neck and felt that damnable guilt stab her in the gut yet again.

"Yes, well I'm not. I don't regret anything that happened that day. You needn't worry about it." Az was almost surprised by how much she meant it, but it was the truth. She'd needed that confrontation because it had helped her at the cave.

"I'm sure there are others who feel differently," Micah said, one finger tugging absently on one of her red curls. There was a faint crease in her brow as she thought of the disappointment on Jem's face. Now there was a tinge of regret on top of everything else.

Az decided to take a chance. She knew, she just knew that Micah was thinking of Jem and the slight misery on her face was a revelation. "He loves you, you know," she blurted. When Micah looked up, startled, she continued. "Jem."

Her face hardened. "I'll not be the butt of your joke, Horsemistress," she began.

"It's no joke, Micah. If you just stopped to look at him for a moment, you'd see it. He's always loved you."

"Impossible." There was no reason for him to love her. She was a hard woman. Never, in the years that she'd known him, had she ever shown him any sort of softness. It was difficult for her to spare a kind word and she was forever pushing at the people around her. He'd have to be an idiot to love her.

Because the truth was that he deserved much better. He was a good man, the best she'd ever known. She _knew _she drove him mad most of the time. Why, in Lurline's name, would he want to be saddled with her for the rest of his life? She'd make him _miserable_.

Yet her stomach churned with the thought of him being with another woman.

"It's not impossible." Az watched with sympathy as Micah ran a gauntlet of emotions. "I'm sure a truce between us would have been impossible and yet it's happened."

Micah could only stare. "You're mad," she managed before fleeing the pavilion. Az was almost put out by that before she realized that the redhead was making her way back to the Rider base camp – and Jem. It wouldn't be too long until there were fireworks, she thought with satisfaction.

* * *

Jem stood along the shores of Finaqua Lake, skipping stones across the glass-smooth surface. He hadn't done anything of the sort since he was a boy and he found the task soothing. He was a simple sort of man and preferred to work through his problems in a physical manner. A spar with Jeb would have been the perfect release for his thoughts, but Jeb was nowhere to be found. No doubt he was looking for the Horsemistress.

The mere thought of Azkadellia made Jem uncomfortable. He wondered if he was doing the right thing by sending Micah to her now. He knew he'd been a bit hasty in that order but something had to be done. Things would never run smoothly for the Riders if they remained at odds. If Micah and Azkadellia came to some sort of understanding, then the other doubters in the ranks would eventually come along as well. He really had the well-being of the Riders to think about.

_And what of your own well-being, Jem Switzer_? The voice in his head sounded like his grandmother, wise and wry at the same time. _Surely some understanding on her part would lead to something more._

Jem fought the urge to bury his face in his hands and groan. Instead, he knelt to the ground, searching for another perfect skipping stone. He couldn't deny it. If Micah could learn to accept Azkadellia, then perhaps there would be no more room in her life for the vengeance that had driven her thus far. Only then, maybe, could she learn to open her heart.

But he also knew that if that was not the case, he could be content to have her by his side as his second. At least she would still be in his life in some way.

He shook his head. _You're a sentimental fool, Jem Switzer._

"Jem Switzer!"

His head shot up. Micah was striding down the beach towards him, her cloak billowing in the wind. He felt a small bit of panic rise up inside him. He wasn't ready to talk to her, not yet. He hadn't given any thought as to what she would do as his second-in-command beyond the obvious. He wracked his brain for the evaluation he and the Horsemistress had compiled during the field exercises. "Micah-"

"Yes, damn you, I've apologized to her and meant it. And yes, I'll do whatever the hell you want me to do with the Riders. I'll not question you – much." Her face was set and determined. "I just want you to answer my question honestly."

"What question?" he asked warily as he straightened from his crouch.

"You love me."

All of the blood drained out of his head. How in the gods-blessed Outer Zone had she…Azkadellia. Somehow, she'd let it slip. All of his plans, as bad as they were, had gone to pieces. He pushed away the vague hopelessness he felt and faced the inevitable. Arranging his face into its usual impassive mask, he replied, "That's a statement, Micah, not a question."

Of all the responses! Micah resisted the childish urge to push him into the lake. "If I have to beat the truth out of you, I will," she threatened. "I'll not take the runaround, not from you, Jem Switzer." Why was she suddenly hoping that Azkadellia was right? She cursed her inability to read him at this moment, for the stony set of his face told her absolutely nothing. Small wonder that she'd been surprised to learn that he loved her – or did he? What did she know of romantic relationships, really?

Jem knew that she would not leave until she had all of the answers. It was one of the reasons why he _did _love her, Ozma save him. "What do you want me to say, Micah?"

"I want you to stop being a blockhead and tell me if you love me or not!" she shouted.

His eyes went bleak and midnight-black with despair. "I always have," he said softly, ripping his biggest secret from his chest for her to see. Now he would lose her, he was sure.

Her reaction was to be expected. "Jem, you _fool!_" He heard the soft crunch of the gravel beneath her boots as she moved closer, and he fully expected a slap to the face or a swift punch to the gut for his presumption.

But instead, her fingers wove their way through his curls and all he saw was the sea-glass greenness of her eyes before she kissed him. Her lips met his fiercely, taking all that he had to give. This was a feeling unlike any other and she never wanted it to end. How could she have missed this? Her hands slid down to his broad shoulders as she tried to press even closer to him.

One of Jem's big hands came up to cup the back of her head, the other resting lightly on the small of her back. He never, ever expected this sort of response from her, but now that she was here, he was not going to give her up. "Easy now," he murmured against her lips. "We have all the time in the world." So he slowed down and showed her what it was to savor the moment. He treated her like she was made of the finest china, showing her without words how much he treasured her.

The gentleness undid her. As they finally drew apart, Micah buried her face in his tunic in an effort to disguise the wetness in her eyes. "You really are a fool." Her voice was muffled. "I'm difficult."

Jem chuckled, running his fingers through her hair. "I believe that's an understatement, Micah my love. But I wouldn't have you any other way."

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**Please review!**

First of all...HAPPY NEW YEAR! Hope your holiday season was full of food, family, and relaxation! On to the chapter...there was _some _romance, even if it wasn't from the main pairing! I know Micah's not a likable character at all...but maybe this chapter made her a little more...sympathetic? I think she's fascinating. She's one of the hardest characters to write but she's so much fun! Anyway, consider the Jem/Micah as a peace offering, since this chapter was put up much later than I'd intended it to be. Again, I am so sorry for the delay in updates. On the bright side. I'm hoping to get a constant stream of updates going soon. Easier said than done, but I'll try! MatsuMama is, as ever, the best beta in the world. :)**  
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	27. Duty Calls

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: "An Untold Story" from the Casanova soundtrack, followed by "Corynorhinus" from the Batman Begins soundtrack

* * *

Jeb stared at the scene in front of him, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well I'll be," he murmured contemplatively. In the present circumstances, he couldn't have anticipated this outcome. But there it was, right in front of him. "It's a good thing we haven't really thought of fraternization regulations." He grinned as Jem pulled Micah close for another kiss.

He didn't really think that they could truly enforce fraternization rules within the Riders. Many of the trainees who'd come in were already involved with another trainee, like Bo and Sula. Training had put them into even closer quarters, which provided a ripe atmosphere for flings and relationships. He already had his eye on Windy and Anka, though he was sure that was something a year or two yet in the making. Windy was as blind as a bat when it came to interpersonal relationships and Anka was far too shy to make the first move.

Jeb rubbed his forehead and turned back to the path. Of course, relationships in the Riders could lead to more headaches than anything else. There was always the question of what would happen when the leader of a group became involved with a subordinate. That kind of situation could lead to an imbalance of power within the group. There was also the possibility of relationship problems manifesting themselves out in the field, potentially causing a dangerous situation. A leader who was worrying about his or her lover and not the group was a liability. Perhaps there needed to be some discussion on the subject, after all.

In any case, he trusted Jem. His best friend had all of his priorities in the right place. He'd shown that last night when Jeb had been on the verge of expelling Micah from the Riders. Jem knew as well as anyone that she'd broken the Rider code many times over with her actions in the forest. Both Jeb and Jem expected that she'd have a lot of making up to do in order to take her true place amongst the Riders because of her transgressions. As commander and second of the Riders they could expect no less.

Still, as a friend Jeb could be happy for him. Only Lurline knew how long Jem had loved Micah and suffered for it.

The sound of gravel crunching lightly underfoot drew his attention. Azkadellia was making her way down the path towards him. She wore no cloak, for the day beautiful with barely a hint of winter's breath hanging in the air. The weather around Finaqua had changed drastically after the events in the cave. Once more, his breath caught in his throat, though he covered it with a cough. "Good morning, Az."

"Jeb!" She slowed to a halt at his side. "I trust the trainees…pardon me, the _Riders_, are pleased with their new assignments."

"There's a small celebration going on back at base camp as we speak," was the easy reply. His fingers twitched as the breeze teased strands of dark hair free from her braid.

"Really? That sounds like fun." She peered at him. "Then why are you here?"

"I was on my way to find you when I came across this lovely little celebration." He waved a hand towards the beach. Az's gaze followed the motion to where Micah and Jem were slowly walking back towards camp, their arms around one another.

"Isn't that lovely?" she murmured.

Jeb raised an eyebrow. Her tone was far too innocent, and as he turned towards her, he caught the slight curve of an all-too satisfied smile on her lips.

"Az." His voice was amused. "Don't tell me that you had something to do with this."

She shot him a coy look. "All right Jeb, I had nothing to do with it."

Az's light, playful manner threw him off guard, but he had to admit that he liked seeing this side of her. He wondered what other facets of her personality would emerge now that she'd been freed of her burden. "Come on, Az, you know you can tell me." He favored her with a winning grin, playing along.

Her heart sped up as he smiled at her. "You know they just needed a push." At his incredulous look, she amended her statement. "All right, they both needed a swift kick to the backside. All I did was drop a few suggestions. I am just as surprised as you with the rather speedy resolution."

"Surprised, but not displeased," Jeb said as they began walking back.

"No, not at all." A thought occurred to her. "Are you? I know that you're not feeling charitable towards Micah right now, but you can't punish Jem for what she's done. She has also apologized to me and I believe that she truly means it. We have a truce-"

Jeb laughed, reaching out to touch her wrist in order to stop the torrent of words. "Az, calm down. As long as they keep each other happy and prevent any of their own issues from carrying over into the Riders, I'm fine with it. I'm more than fine. Jem deserves this."

"They both do." Her wrist was tingling. She loved these moments with him when they simply enjoyed each other's company. She could almost imagine them exactly like this, fifty annuals down the road. Time would be kind to him, she imagined. Dignity and discipline would keep his bearing straight and proud, gray strands would be almost indistinguishable from his blond hair. There would be precious little to bring lines to his face save for the crinkles around his still-bright eyes that would come from lots of laughter.

And they would walk hand-in-hand, content with the time life had given them.

That old sense of longing rose up within her. A few days ago, those feelings would have driven her to despair. But after her ordeal in the cave, she'd been given a new perspective. Notions that seemed impossible before the fact were now almost painfully promising, bright sparks of hope in her mind.

For the first time, Az was certain that she would be happy. It seemed like such a small thing, but before the cave, she was sure that she would never _truly _be happy. Not in the way that reached deep inside one's soul and brightened everything around them. She thought she would be challenged and fulfilled, but never happy. Now she could be all three, if she just had the courage to reach out and take it.

But what if Jeb didn't feel the same? Az could almost hear DG's reply. "Az," she would snort. "If he doesn't love you already then he's an idiot."

Now, Az didn't quite share DG's sense of enthusiasm. But Jem and Micah had been taken care of and it seemed like DG and Wyatt were well on their way to some sort of resolution. Perhaps it really was time to concentrate on _her_ happiness.

"Az?" She felt the slight touch of his fingers on her wrist once more and almost shivered. Jeb's voice was slightly concerned. "Lost you for a second. Where did you go?"

"Just wool-gathering, as DG says. I'm afraid I'll never understand what that means." Drawing upon a well of courage, she threaded her arm through his and offered him a sunny smile. "Shall we go back?" Small steps, Azkadellia, she told herself.

Jeb was both surprised and pleased by her gesture. He tucked her hand more securely into his elbow and smiled slowly. He couldn't quite decipher the look in her eyes, but there was warmth there that he was more than happy to receive. "Yes, we probably should."

They took their sweet time walking back to the camp, chatting idly about the latest court gossip. When they finally returned, they were just in time to catch the gleeful cry that came from the huddle of Riders from Jeb's group. "Right Hand! Hurrah for the Queen's Right Hand!"

Az was pleasantly surprised. She was sure that her mother would be pleased yet flustered with the new designation for the First Rider Group, as she had been with the name for the Riders. Still, it was appropriate. The O.Z. was nothing without its Queen, and the citizens knew that fact very well.

Sula spotted the pair and swaggered over. "Well, it's about time you two showed up. I hope you're not put out that we didn't name ourselves after you, Jeb. I had to disabuse the pups of the notion that you'd be easier on us if we…what is it that Princess DG says…'suck up'?"

Jeb laughed, matching Sula's wide, teasing grin with one of his own. "Hardly. I would have been uncomfortable and embarrassed if they'd done so."

"Thought so." Sula turned to Az now and her expression turned serious. "We mean it, Horsemistress."

Az's brow furrowed. "I'm sorry?"

"We're _your _right hand. We'll stand beside you." In the blink of an eye, she morphed back into insouciant, playful Sula. She patted Az's hand, winked, and walked off.

The implication of that statement was staggering, and not something Az wanted to think about. Her mother kept trying to bring up the subject of the throne but Az always cited Rider training as an excuse to get away. It was tradition in the O.Z. for the reigning Queen to crown her successor before she became too old. That way, the Queen Mother could be around for annuals in order to guide her heir. Such a handover was still at least ten annuals off, but Queen Lavender had been hinting that it was time for Azkadellia's status as heir to become official.

Az just wanted to put it off for as long as she could. She knew that there were factions pushing for the adoption of DG as the heir, to her younger sister's absolute disgust.

"I don't _want_ to be queen," she'd confided late one night. "I know nothing about politics and frankly, I don't want to learn. I'm not the easiest person to deal with – hey, no laughing!" DG threw a small pillow at Az. "Life on the Other Side hasn't helped that at all. Let's face it – _you _were the one who's been groomed for the throne your whole life. Leadership suits you."

"It's not fair to ask them to trust me to the throne once more, Deeg." Az wasn't even sure if she trusted herself on the throne. It wasn't a question of the witch, really. It was merely that her confidence in her ability to lead had eroded quite a bit.

"No, it's not fair of _them_ not to trust _you_," DG argued. "No one deserves the crown more than you." She frowned deeply. "If they try to crown me I'll disappear. Then they won't have a choice."

"How do you know they can't replace me with the kind of government you have on the Other Side?" Az argued.

DG shot her a look. "Az, the O.Z. has to have a queen, remember? _Lurline, the Queen of Faeries, she / Didst raise the land from beneath the sandy sea / Her deed done, she lay down to sleep / To Daughter Ozma didst she leave the land to keep / O Queen Ozma, that bright and shining star / And her daughters, of magic and dragons are / Must e'er sit upon the emerald throne / Else the land return to sand and stone_."

"That's a nursery rhyme, Deeg." She ignored the foreboding sense of destiny and inevitability that washed over her as her sister recited those words.

"And don't nursery rhymes contain a tiny bit of truth?" was the countering argument. "There's a clear warning there, Az. Haven't you given any thought as to why we're the only citizens in all of the O.Z. who wield magic? There has to be a reason for that."

In truth, she had, and passionately debated the subject with Glitch numerous times. "Deeg, please," she pleaded. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

DG had grudgingly changed the topic, but the problem remained. The Riders had provided ample distraction, but now she was faced with the thought that their impending instatement would open the avenues of debate once more. Her mother had been indulgent during their training, but she was sure to broach the subject once day-to-day duties were taken out of Az's hands.

That was another problem Az refused to contemplate. Shortly after the creation of the Rider program, Queen Lavender had made her agree that she was to stay out of Rider business once they assumed active duty. Under no circumstance was she to ride out with them on any sort of mission unless it pertained to training. Az had agreed at the time, but realized how hasty she'd been in making that agreement. She never knew that she'd become so invested in the Riders, but now she wanted to see everything through. If the whole heir situation came to pass, the restrictions would be even greater. The heir to the throne could not go gallivanting about the countryside, trying to capture bandits.

Az rebelled at that thought. After all she'd done with them, the prospect of being left behind was simply…_wrong_.

Jeb caught the subtle shifts of expression as they flashed across her face. To most other people, she was the epitome of calm, but he saw the surprise, pleasure, dismay, sadness, and defiance. The tightness of her grip on his arm was also telling. He didn't know what was causing her to run such a gauntlet of emotions, but he guessed that Sula's words and the naming of the First Rider Group had something to do with it.

He placed his free hand over hers and watched her slowly come back to the present. Almost subconsciously, his thumb began moving in soothing sweeps over the back of her hand. "That was nice of them, don't you think?" he said neutrally.

Az blinked and then recovered herself. "It was," she agreed. "Mother will be pleased."

Before Jeb could reply, a cheer went up from the Second Rider Group. "Bane! Hurrah for the Longcoat's Bane!" With another hearty cheer, Jem and Micah were hoisted into the air and paraded around the camp with Jem laughing and Micah cursing them to the Realm of the Unwanted and back.

"Hurrah? Maybe we'd better teach them something else…like 'hoo-rah.'" DG came up beside Az and Jeb, smiling wryly. "Isn't 'hurrah' another Army thing?"

"The Army just grunts," Jeb replied. "Although I'm sure the Riders would be open to suggestion. Where does 'oo-rah' come from?"

"The Marines on the Other Side use it as their war cry. The Army yell 'hoo-ah," and the Navy yell 'hoo-yah.'"

Jeb nodded, not really understanding at all. "What's a Marine?"

DG waved a hand. "Sorry, I'm just babbling. I'll explain later, but I need to borrow Az. We've got to Skype Mother."

Az laughed and waved off Jeb's increasingly befuddled expression. "Deeg, mirror-to-mirror conferencing is nothing like that vid-eee-oh thing you were telling me about."

"What, one's powered by electricity and the other by magic! It's close enough."

"Hardly! With enough power, one can step from mirror to mirror. I'd like to see you do that with those lap-top contraptions."

DG's eyes widened. "Now hang on a second! Tutor never mentioned that!"

"Because Tutor doesn't know," Az said, and reluctantly disengaged herself from Jeb. She smiled shyly at him. "I will see you later."

He nodded as the two princesses walked off hand-in-hand, their linked hands glowing faintly in the sunlight. It bothered him to see that expression on her face. It was as though her pain was his, and he would have gladly taken her pain and carried it himself.

"Boy, have you got it bad," Glitch announced. Jeb didn't even have to look to know that his father and Raw had also come into the camp with the advisor.

The corners of Jeb's mouth lifted in a half-hearted attempt at a smile. "You don't have to tell me that, Glitch. I know that…my heart isn't exactly my own anymore." And that was a gross understatement. There was so much going on inside of him that anyone could have excused him from his confusion, if he were in fact confused.

Raw nodded sagely, feeling and understanding his young friend's emotions like they were his own. "Yes. Heart belongs to Azkadee."

That was only part of the picture. Jeb had grown up with a prime example of the perfect relationship in front of his eyes. Wyatt and Adora Cain had been true partners in every sense of the word. Everything they did was for and with the other person. Love was merely part of the foundation of their relationship, for their cornerstones were also trust, devotion, friendship, and laughter. He wanted all of that with Az. He would not settle for anything less and for no one but her.

The question was whether or not she felt the same way. Jeb liked to think that he had a pretty good understanding of women, and of Azkadellia in particular. He was almost certain that he was not alone in his feelings. Their connection was special, unique. But he did not want to exploit that, especially in the face of her newfound freedom. He had to consider the possibility that her feelings could have come about because he was one of the first people outside of her family to truly befriend and understand her. Now, her future was ripe with possibilities. She was free to seek love wherever she wished and expect it to be fully returned.

Was he strong enough to let her go if that scenario were to happen? Jeb knew right away that the answer was an emphatic yes. He would never stand in the way of her happiness, and if it meant that he had to push his own feelings aside and remain her friend, then he would do so. Lurline help him, he would, even though the mere thought of it hurt more than he ever thought it would. He hoped that such a situation would never come to pass.

"It feels great," he finally admitted. "But is it supposed to hurt like this, too?"

"Love is greatest happiness and biggest sorrow," Raw murmured.

"I hear you," Glitch said feelingly. He leaned towards Wyatt. "I feel as though we should be sitting in some down-and-out pub with strong ales in hand," he said in a stage whisper. "That's just what we _do _when we talk about women and feelings…right?"

The former Tin Man just rolled his eyes at the advisor before turning to his son. "Now you know how it feels, m'boy." There was sympathy and understanding in his father's eyes. Wyatt had been all set to make his son the target of some well-meaning teasing, but now was not the time, not when Jeb had that kind of look in his eyes. He cleared his throat. "Why don't you two keep an eye on those Riders while Jeb and I just…have a talk." Though the statement could have been taken as a request, in typical Cain style it came out more like a demand.

Sometimes it paid off to have a Viewer around. Raw just nodded, grabbed Glitch, and dragged him off, despite the advisor's loud protests of, "But we were having such a manly moment! We can't spoil it!"

Jeb raised an eyebrow at his father. "That was subtle."

"Walk with me," Wyatt said, heading towards the lake. "Relax," he said with a short laugh. "I'm not going to ask about your intentions…leave that to DG."

He cringed. "I forgot about that." The thought of sitting through an interrogation session with DG was nothing short of terrifying. It made the prospect of interrogation by Queen Lavender and the Prince Consort seem like a jaunt through the woods. Still, he couldn't help but be intrigued by his father's sudden need to speak to him alone. "So why are we talking, Father?"

Wyatt was silent for a moment. He knew that as time went on, there was little advice that he could really give to his son. Jeb had grown up so quickly and so harshly. Those changes had been in place long before he'd seen his father beaten within an inch of his life and imprisoned in the suit. His parents' involvement with the Resistance had already rendered Jeb more silent and cautious than any child that age had any right to be. Later on, his precious son had been forced into a role Wyatt never would have wished for him at any time. He'd been hoping to spare him from a life tainted with crime and pain and a perpetual search for justice.

Still, Wyatt could not have been any prouder of the man that Jeb had grown into. He had the best qualities of his parents, especially Adora's compassion and caring heart. Jeb had rough edges – what Cain didn't? – but he was still young. There was time enough to temper iron and hone it into the finest steel blade. Falling in love was part of that tempering process because it changed a person as surely as heating and quenching transformed metals. Wyatt knew this because his love for Adora and his life with her had forged much of the man that he was today. Jeb and Azkadellia would have a similar effect on each other and had indeed already changed each other for the better.

That wasn't what he wanted to tell Jeb, though. That was something that he would have to figure out for himself, if he hadn't done so already. "There isn't much to say," he said eventually. "It's hard, but it's worth it. You two have something special." Damn but those words felt inadequate.

Evidently, Jeb thought so too but decided to address something else entirely. "Like you and DG," he remarked casually.

Wyatt would deny any accusation that his palms got sweaty at his son's observation. This was the first time that Jeb had shown any indication that he knew what was going on between his father and the younger princess. "What?"

"Father, give me some credit," Jeb snorted, glad that he'd successfully diverted the spotlight. Still, he was curious as to what his father would have to say.

The former Tin Man admitted that he'd been dreading this moment. It was one thing for Jeb's widowed father to get involved with someone, but for that person to be a woman who was about the same age as him as well as the younger sister of his own love…well, that was probably asking a bit much. The tangled nature of the emerging relationships between the Cain men and the princesses Gale could even give Glitch a headache. "And?"

The look in those blue eyes, so identical to his own, turned serious. "It's fine." He shrugged and stared out over the pristine waters of the lake. "Mother…I know you're not replacing her or forgetting her. That makes it easier."

"Your mother is not someone who could _ever_ be replaced or forgotten," Wyatt said firmly. The mere thought of it was laughable. Adora would always be a part of him. DG wasn't replacing his wife's place in his heart; it was more like his heart was making room for the errant princess. Even though he was hard-pressed to call it love, his feelings for DG were different than the ones he held for Adora because they were different people.

Jeb nodded, feeling as though they had come to an understanding. "So…how are things?" The _with DG _portion remained unsaid but clear.

Wyatt's pointed look told Jeb exactly what he thought of the question. But he sighed and relented, knowing that Jeb did have a right to know, was in fact an adult, and would thus understand the situation. "We both know what's there." They still had yet to find a moment alone where they could hash out what had happened during the last day of the exercises.

"Ah," Jeb murmured, filling in the blanks.

"Exactly." He adjusted his hat. "Do you…ah, need any help or advice?" He prayed to Lurline that the answer was no. His son's relationship with the older princess was something unique and something Wyatt had never had to deal with. He doubted that any insight of his would be useful.

To his relief, Jeb was already shaking his head. "Thanks, Father, but I can handle it." He wasn't sure just how, but he would. He knew how he felt – all that remained was how she felt.

And Jeb was content to wait. He would wait for as long as it took for Az to be ready to take that step with him. It went without saying that he would prefer for it to be sooner rather than later, but he would wait because she was worth it. Everything that they had, everything that they could be, was worth it.

"Good." He clasped Jeb on the shoulder, saying without words that he would always have his son's back.

Jeb grinned, getting the message loud and clear. He glanced back towards the camp. "We should probably get back or Glitch is liable to explode."

Wyatt rolled his eyes, almost visibly relieved at the shift towards more familiar ground. "That zipperhead does not need to hear every bit of court gossip, Queen's Advisor or not. Only the Shadow Man needs that kind of information."

"That reminds me," Jeb began as they turned back towards the camp. "Do you know who he…or she is? You are head of the Gale Force."

"Nope. And believe me, I've asked," Wyatt replied, referring to the Queen's Spymaster, a position that was so shrouded in secrecy that there were few who even knew the position existed. Those who did know where left completely in the dark and thus dubbed the unknown person "the Shadow Man" because of the elusiveness of the person and his or her position. "I don't even think Glitch, the princesses, or the Prince Consort know who it is. The Shadow Man reports to Queen Lavender alone."

"Huh, well that's intriguing," Jeb said thoughtfully as they walked back into the base camp.

"Commander Cain, there you are! We need your opinion on something!" Windy exclaimed. He pulled father and son over to the campfire, where the Rider groups were discussing various accoutrements that could be used in the uniform to distinguish between Rider groups. They were debating the merits of armbands when Az and DG came striding back.

"Ah, my favorite two princesses!" Glitch sprang up, only to stop when he noticed the grim, set expressions on their faces. "What's going on?"

"We have marching orders," DG announced.

"Mother wants us all back in Central as quickly as possible," Az said, her tone of voice grave and serious. "The Riders have their first mission."

Even as the excitement and anticipation zipped through him at the thought of the Riders' first true test, Jeb could not help the feeling of foreboding that slithered down his spine. It seemed that from now on, nothing would be the same – not for him, not for Az. Not even for the O.Z.

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**Please review!**

Sorry for the wait again, folks. Dissertation topics have been the order of the past few weeks, I've just turned in a massive application for a Ph.D. program, funding, and a proposal for my MA dissertation. But somehow, a chapter did manage to get written, so I hope you like it. If you haven't already, please check out the beautiful banner that Iris36 created for the story. The link is on my profile - show her some love! MatsuMama = best beta ever.**  
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	28. Interlude: Dreams From the Desert

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: "Snowdrop" from the Stardust soundtrack

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_Jaasir was used to dreaming. Vedu lore stated that Sheba spoke to her Chosen as they slept, slipping them advice and warnings. Such communications were ambiguous, coming in hazy flashes and images. The Goddess was as cryptic and unreadable as the weather of her earthly kingdom, and it was left to the sheiks and their shamans to interpret her sendings._

_This dream was different. When Sheba came to him, it was on the dreamscape of a desert plain. Her voice was barely audible through the howling of a sandstorm, and images came in flashes of lightning. Now he walked through a cave: dark, damp, and cold. There was evil there, evil that lingered for so long that the very rock was tainted by its darkness._

"_What is this place?" he murmured, reaching for the well of magic and warmth his faith gave him._

Darkness. Greed. Violence. Death. Older than human memory. _Sheba's voice was clear this night and was as hot, scorching, and dry as the lands under her domain. As terrible as it was, it was comforting to hear it in this place._

"_Is it a threat to the Tribes?" he asked. If so, they would fight it. The Tribes were Children of the Light and would never stand for such darkness._

Once it was. But what was dark has been made bright once more.

_Light flared, so bright that the sheikh had to throw an arm over his eyes. With the light came warmth unlike anything he had felt before, except when Sheba blessed him with the title of sheikh. Yet this warmth was familiar. Jaasir knew its signature…_

"_Aesha," he breathed. "She has conquered her darkness."_

She has power unlike any who has come before. Because of her, the Outer Zone and its allies will enjoy an era of peace and prosperity that has not been seen in many years. But she must be tested and proven worthy.

"_She will." He believed that with everything within him. He had always known that her destiny was far greater than anyone could ever know._

Your love speaks well of your heart, Jaasir Abd al Ati. Guard it well, for she will have need of your strength. _With that, Sheba's presence faded away, leaving Jaasir to bask in the warmth of his beloved daughter's rediscovered Light. He woke with tears of joy streaming down his face, grateful for the gift Sheba had given to him by telling him that Aesha was all right._

"_Abu?" Amirah came in, bearing his customary morning tcha. She took one look at his face and was beside him in an instant, gripping his hand. "Abu, what is wrong?"_

"_Aesha is free," he whispered. "Aesha is free. She lives once more."_

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_**Please review!**_

I still miss the Vedu, can you tell? Don't worry folks, the madness begins in the next chapter! I'm just waiting for some input from MatsuMama (best beta ever!).

To my anonymous reviewers, thank you so much for your kind words and insights! Cassie Latham - sharp eyes, thanks for pointing that out!


	29. Storm Warning

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: "Air" from the Angels and Demons soundtrack, then "An Historic Love" from the Tudors soundtrack (Season One) for the last scene

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A hush fell over the entire camp at Az's words.

"Well, you heard the Horsemistress!" Jem barked. "Don't stand there and gawk! Pack up and assemble here, ready to move out. _Now!_" The camp erupted into organized chaos as the Riders moved as one towards their tents, ready to be packed up.

"If we move out in fifteen minutes, we should be back at Central by nightfall," Jeb began.

Az shook her head. "No, there's no time. Mother needs us back _now_."

"How are we supposed to do that?" Wyatt said skeptically. "I know your Riders can push your horses pretty far without causing them any harm, but Army horses are different. They'd founder. Even nightfall is asking for too much."

"There is no need for Sixth to accompany us back, Mr. Cain," Az replied, all business. "Army horses wouldn't be able to handle a travel storm, so they may move out when they like. Mother would like the Riders back as soon as they are able."

Glitch blinked. "Azkadee, maybe I'm glitching again, but did you say 'travel storm?'"

"You heard right." DG crossed her arms, hoping that her tight grip would assuage her trembling hands. Her first and only experience with a travel storm had been riding it. This time she would be flying blind, literally, depending on Az to guide her through the process of creating and directing one.

"That's insane," Wyatt said flatly.

"Mother's orders, Mr. Cain." A brief look of concentration passed over the older princess' face before she made a quick gesture in the air. With a faint _pop_, the bags of everyone who'd been staying at the castle appeared at her feet. "I suggest you saddle up your horses now, minus Nick and Popsicle," she said calmly.

DG stared between the bags and her sister. "Az, this scarily efficient mode of yours is kinda freaky."

"No kidding," Glitch agreed. Nevertheless, his face was serious as he picked up his bags and headed towards the stables. As the Queen's Advisor, he knew when a situation was serious and called for absolute cooperation. Raw, Wyatt, and DG followed, leaving Az and Jeb alone.

Jeb had to admit that he liked this side of her. It was easy to forget that she'd been trained from birth to handle situations like this. She shied away from being a leader, but it was clear to anyone that it came naturally. Now, with the confidence that she'd built from her time in the desert, her strength from overcoming the witch, and a newfound willingness to use her magic, she was a force to be reckoned with. Suddenly there was no doubt in his mind that she would be queen.

"I wasn't staying at the castle," Jeb remarked, shouldering his bags easily.

A smile lurked at the corner of the elder princess' lips. "Scarily efficient, remember?" she said wryly, picking up her bags. "Besides, someone needs to tell Sixth the plans-"

"Father's taking care of it, I'm sure." He tilted his head to the side as they followed the stream of people towards the stables. "Travel storm, huh? I think the horses are the only ones who know what's in for them."

"It's not so terrible," Az replied. "It only looks turbulent from the outside. The only way you'd feel anything is if you're thrown into it. Since DG and I will be raising it around everyone, it will be a relatively smooth ride. It helps that the Cloudrunners won't even flick an ear at it. The Traveling Sands are much worse."

He was glad that she was so blasé about it. He wasn't sure that he wanted his body hurtling across the O.Z. in a tornado, but if he had to do it then he would. "Any idea what the mission is?"

"No," she sighed as they entered the stables. "I imagine that she will tell us once we return to Central." She petted Freeheart affectionately. "It seems somewhat dire. I haven't seen that expression on her face in a long time."

"Then it's a good thing you and DG can get us there." Jeb clapped her shoulder lightly and moved to saddle Strongwind and organize the Riders.

Az watched the commander for a moment before she copied his actions. "I'm worried, my heart," she confessed to Freeheart. "I have a bad feeling about this and to use a travel storm so soon…"

The black stallion nosed against her soothingly. If there had been room in the stable box, he would have twined around her like an affectionate cat. Az buried her face in his mane, allowing herself a brief moment of vulnerability.

Not for the first time, she marveled at the relationship she had with the Windrunner. He was her guardian and her guide, a true gift from Sheba. She wondered just what she'd done to gain the favor of the Vedu goddess.

Freeheart nudged her shoulder and she looked up into those unfathomable eyes until she was falling, falling into their obsidian depths. In that moment he was more than a horse, his presence burning brightly in front of her.

_Your destiny will decide the fates of many, my sister_, he seemed to tell her. _Gather your strength and strengthen your heart, for you will need both._

Suddenly she was released. Az blinked and stumbled back. Freeheart snorted at her and walked out of the box.

What, she thought dazedly, was_ that_? Had Freeheart really spoken to her? Surely that wasn't possible. Nevertheless, when she thought back to the cave, it was as though he'd spoken to her then as well. What were the Windrunners, truly?

Freeheart's impatient stamp brought her back to the present. "I'm coming, I'm coming," she said, eyeing the stallion suspiciously before she mounted up.

The Riders were already gathered and in formation at one end of the clearing. Some of them bounced with barely restrained enthusiasm like Windy and Sula. Others were pale with trepidation, like Anka. Bo, Az noticed, was wearing his trademark expression of lazy concentration.

Jem spotted her and made his way over on Sandstrider. "Lieutenant, I assume you've already briefed everyone on our…unusual mode of transport."

"I have, Horsemistress. You might want to say something before we go, reassure them or something."

"I intend to, Jem, don't worry." Az rode to the center of the formation, where DG, Glitch, Raw, Wyatt, and Jeb were already waiting. Wyatt and DG's bags were distributed amongst various horses and as Az rode up, DG came up to her sister, holding out her hand. Az pulled her up so that she could sit behind her. Wyatt, she noticed with no small amount of amusement, was already sitting behind Jeb on Strongwind, glowering. He had not liked the idea of leaving Nick behind to return with Sixth.

"Are we ready?" Az asked.

"Just waiting on you to address the Riders," Jeb said.

Az nodded and nudged Freeheart around so that she could face the Riders. "No doubt you are apprehensive about this mode of transportation," she said, pitching her voice so that everyone could hear her. "But the situation is urgent. No one less than your Queen has called you to duty. Now you have the opportunity to prove your worth to the O.Z. All I ask is that you trust that Princess DG and I will get you there safely." As she spoke that last sentence, her gaze fell on Micah. The redhead met her eyes without flinching before nodding sharply.

Az looked as many Riders in the face as she could, relieved to find even the tiniest hint of trust from all of them. "Thank you. Please stay calm and still. It will be over quickly."

She turned Freeheart back towards the center. "Hold my hands, Deeg," she said quietly. She felt her sister reach around and lace her fingers with hers. Their hands glowed brightly. "Now, just focus your mind on what I do with the magic. Once you understand, join in."

"How do you know that I can-" DG began.

"Just concentrate, Deeg. You can do it. I have faith in you."

DG shut her eyes and obeyed, pushing her quivering nerves aside as she fell into a trance-like state. She reached for the Light within her, summoning it so that it burst into her inner vision. As she did so, she realized why she had to concentrate so hard.

Travel storms were born from primordial magic, as all elemental magic was. This was magic in its purest, most volatile form, as it had been for eons. Only the strongest and the most gifted could use magic in this way, even in the times when more witches and wizards had roamed Nonestica. It was the Ancients who studied the properties of magic in detail until they could understand its structure and bend it to their will. The Ancients had all but tamed magic, corralling it with words and gestures so that the practice of it became easier, especially for those who lacked the strength and discipline to use it in its basic form.

Knowledge of most of the elemental magics had been lost to the centuries as the number of people who could use it dwindled. In the O.Z., only the way to use a travel storm remained because of its utility. Still, calling a travel storm was far from simple. There were no words or movements here, only a pure connection between nature, magic, and its wielder.

DG watched as Az used the Light within her to call forth the power threaded in the wind. Those strands gleamed silver-bright in her sight as they streamed down from the sky to twine with ropes that Az fashioned with her own well of power. Once enough of the wind was bound with her magic, she began to bend it to her will.

The wind fought her. All elemental magic did – it was not easy to coax nature to do man's bidding. That was why each "strand" of wind had to be tangled with Az's own Light, because there was no manipulating the wind itself. Not knowing exactly what to do, DG settled for adding her strength to her sister's, feeding her own Light into Az's strands until she could get a sense of the shape of the travel storm itself.

The shock of her magic meeting the wind was almost enough to knock DG out of her trance. Wind, more than any other element, wanted to move on its own accord. It struggled against the ropes that bound it, and to DG it was like Az was holding the reins to a thousand unruly horses. However, Az never faltered, tightening her hold until they were all firmly in her grasp. To this DG added her own measure of control.

Then, Az began to spin the threads of wind and magic until they swirled together, forming a dizzying funnel of silver and gold in DG's sight. Again, all she could do was add her power to Az's, though now that the wind was finally able to move, it was slightly more tractable. It would be even more biddable once the travel storm was unleashed and allowed to travel, though it would still require a guiding hand to get it to the final destination.

DG was vaguely aware that in the real world, a real tornado was taking shape around the group of Riders, darkening the sky over Finaqua with swirling gray clouds. Their life energies glowed in her magical sight, flaring with nerves that were either well-controlled or not controlled at all, depending on the person.

_DG. _Az's mental voice hummed down the connection between the two of them. _Hold the travel storm for a moment while I cast a net over the Riders._

_You want me to hold _that? DG stared at the magical spindle that rotated fiercely in front of her older sister's face, the terminus for all of the magical energies that shaped the travel storm.

_Just control it for a few seconds. Unless you want to create the net that will bind all of the Riders to the storm?_

She gulped. _You know, that sounds like one of those things that's simple in theory but much harder in execution. I was always bad at both when it came to magic. You'll do it quickly, right?_

_Of course. Time is of the essence._

_Right. Got it. _Concentrating with all of her might, DG seized the spindle with her Light, flinching slightly as the sheer magnitude of the working blasted through her. Still, she gritted her teeth and continued to nudge it into spirals, keeping the shape of the travel storm.

In no time at all, she felt Az rejoin her. _We're ready to go. Just keep doing what you were doing before, Deeg. You're doing great._ Though there was no room for corporeality in this plane, DG felt the affectionate brush of her sister's magic against hers, like the fluttering of a butterfly's wings.

_What can I say; I've got the best teacher_. However, DG was sure as all get-out that she wouldn't be helming a travel storm anytime soon.

As Az spurred the travel storm into motion, DG took the time to explore the workings of the travel storm. She encountered the glowing net that her sister had cast earlier. It was an intricate little masterpiece, incorporating the life energies of all of the Riders into a web that was worked into the structure of the storm. _So that's how this is able to transport people. How were Mom, Popsicle, and I able to use one, though? We jumped into it._

_Once integrated, the web becomes a part of the storm. Any large life energies that get caught in the structure will become a part of the entire working. Think of it as a spider's web. Once you're trapped, you're in it until the end. _Az's mental voice was beginning to sound tired. DG was starting to feel the strain, herself. Travel storms were really meant to handle half a dozen people at most. This one was carrying thirty-five people and thirty-three horses.

_So, I hate to sound annoying but…are we there yet? How do you steer this thing, anyway?_

_You have to have a strong sense of direction. Strong sensor spells on the outside help, too._

_You're juggling a travel storm _and _sensor spells? Az, you've been holding back on me. How strong are you, really?_

_Strong enough, Deeg. But I couldn't have done this without you. Cheer up, we're here._

_Great. How do we stop this thing?_

_Watch_. Slowly, ever so slowly, Az began to withdraw the tendrils of her magic from the wind. Even so, she directed the wind up and away so that the newly released element could not wreak havoc on the ground. DG followed her example, slowly loosening her grip as well. The last thing to go was the web of energy tied to the Riders.

DG opened her eyes and found the massive walls of Central City towering in front of her. "Cool," she managed, then slumped against Az, who was already leaning gratefully on Freeheart's neck.

"Are you two all right?" DG cracked open an eye to find that both Cains were hovering quite anxiously at their side. Jeb had one hand on Az's shoulder and she tried to ignore their moment as much as possible.

She just flapped a hand at Wyatt. "M'alright."

"No you're not, you've overreached yourself," he replied. "Come on, let's get you back to the palace. Tutor-"

"Whoa there, cowboy." DG's eyes flew open and she glared at the former Tin Man. "There was no _overreaching _here. Az and I could turn around and take us back to Finaqua if we needed to." _Then _they'd collapse, but she wasn't going to say that.

"Right." Wyatt's voice dripped with skepticism and concern. If it weren't for the last bit, DG would have hit him – or tried to, anyway. "We'll save that adventure for another time. You two look like you need some food."

He swore that DG was going to drive him to distraction to the end of his days. Hell, he'd known that within a few minutes of meeting her. She was always spoiling for a fight and he knew that there were going to be times when he was just going to have to back down. This was one of them.

"Food would be lovely," Az said serenely. "Shall we go?"

"That was _terrifying_!" Glitch said somewhere behind them. "Can we do it again?"

* * *

Later, after a very strong pot of tea and a meat pasty, DG was feeling slightly human again. There was certainly color in Az's cheeks now, she observed, watching as Az tried her best to get their mother to tell them why the Riders were needed. Jeb sat at the other end of the conference table, deep in conversation with Ahamo and Wyatt, while Jem conversed with Raw and Glitch.

"Darling, we need to wait for General Trevelyan. He must be privy to this news as well." Queen Lavender smiled patiently, patting her daughter's hand. She'd sensed the change in her eldest as soon as she'd stepped past the wards to the palace. However, urgent business waited for no one, and it was imperative to brief Commander Cain and several others before she could focus solely on Azkadellia.

Right on cue, the doors to the small meeting room opened. "My apologies, Your Majesty. I came as soon as I received your summons." General Geoffrey Trevelyan had been one of the last generals to remain loyal to Queen Lavender after the witch took power. His popularity and influence had made him a formidable enemy, and having failed to turn him, the witch had him incarcerated in one of her maximum security cells. After her defeat, he had been found and immediately promoted to Supreme Commander of the Royal Army.

General Trevelyan was the kind of man Sheikh Jaasir would have trusted on the spot. He believed in order, honor, and tradition without being a slave to any of them. He was also, according to Ahamo, "allergic to bureaucracy and command," which made him an odd, if admittedly perfect choice to lead the Royal Army. He was extremely serious, though possessing of a dry sense of humor that often appeared from out of nowhere. The general was a kind man: Az had memories of him slipping her candy during crown functions.

He was also what DG called a "silver fox." Az didn't want to dwell on that – the man was old enough to be her grandfather!

General Trevelyan settled down next to Jeb. "Commander Cain," he said easily, nodding to both father and son.

Both Cains stood and saluted. "General."

He focused his gaze on Jeb, though he addressed Queen Lavender. "Your Majesty, I'm still upset that you've stolen one of my most promising officers." A hint of amusement crept into his brown eyes. "I was going to promote you, you know."

Jeb shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sorry, sir." He'd been loath to disappoint the general. He'd grown to respect and admire him greatly during his short time as an official member of the Royal Army.

"His skills were needed elsewhere," Lavender laughed.

"Speaking of skills," Ahamo said pointedly. "There is a reason why we had to call the Riders back so quickly, not to mention disturb the general."

General Trevelyan snorted and Jeb looked down, hiding a grin. It was likely that the general had been in the middle of paperwork – and everyone in the Royal Army knew that he despised paperwork.

"Yes, thank you dear." Lavender looked grave. "I have received an alarming report from my spymaster."

All around the table, spines stiffened. Reports from the infamous Shadow Man were always interesting, but almost never good.

The queen continued. "A force of former Longcoats and bandits, numbers unknown, have taken advantage of the decrease in population in the north due to the weather. With fewer eyes on them and fewer repercussions, they have grown bold. We already have reports of one village bordering the Great Gillikin Forest being sacked and burned. Rumors say that they are preparing to move south."

"Fifth Company has been snowed in at Ugabu and Seventh at the Emerald Mines," General Trevelyan murmured, taking stock of the military resources at hand. "First has been patrolling the Realm of the Unwanted, Third the territories of the Eastern Guild, and Fourth the Vinkus."

"Leaving the Second and Eighth companies here with Sixth making its way back from Finaqua," Wyatt finished. "Central would be vulnerable if one or both of the companies left, not that they could move very fast in this weather."

Lavender nodded. "This is why we need the Riders. They are the only ones who can assess and if necessary, contain this threat until a company of the army can come to their aid."

Jeb and Jem exchanged glances filled with barely contained excitement, anticipation, and determination. This was _exactly _the kind of job the Riders were meant to do. "The Riders are at your service, Your Majesty," Jeb said.

She smiled. "I was hoping that you would say that, Commander Cain. How soon can the Riders be ready?"

"We can move out now, if Your Majesty wishes," was the quick reply.

General Trevelyan coughed and Wyatt rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Show-offs."

The queen ignored them. "That is not necessary at this time, Commander Cain. For now, it is only a rumor that this rabble is moving south. Mid-morning tomorrow should be adequate enough."

"We will be ready," Jeb promised. His eyes were bright and almost feverish. "May Jem and I be excused? We have to prepare a strategy before we debrief the Riders."

"Of course." Lavender glanced at General Trevelyan. "I trust that you can have a company on the move tomorrow morning as well?"

The general looked affronted. "They may not move as quickly as the Riders, but they will be there." He drummed his fingers on the table. "I'll send Second Company. They've been itching to get out into the field. You'll have your backup, Commander Cain."

Jeb nodded gratefully as he got to his feet. "I appreciate it, sir." With a quick bow to the royal family and a salute to the general, he moved from the room as quickly as dignity would allow, with Jem hot on his heels.

Az watched them go wistfully. Was it already time for her to be excluded from Rider activities? There was no denying just how badly she wanted to be a part of this. Perhaps if she approached it the right way…

General Trevelyan cleared his throat. "Well, I'm off to the kitchens. There's a rumor going around that there's cake to be had. Would anyone care to join me?" He raised a scarred eyebrow in Glitch and Raw's direction.

Glitch's stomach rumbled. "Well, you know what my answer is!" He turned to Lavender. "If we may…"

"Please, Ambrose." Lavender hid a smile at the mental image of the Supreme Commander of the Royal Army, the Queen's Advisor, and an ambassador begging cake from the palace kitchens.

Once the royal family was left alone, Ahamo stood and crossed to Az's side. He pulled her to her feet, ignoring her startled protest. "Look at that," he murmured. His eyes, so like DG's, were suspiciously bright. "My baby girl's got the light back in her eyes. I never thought I'd see that again."

All thoughts of the Riders flew out of Az's mind. Once the travel storm had set down outside the city, they'd been swept off for the briefing. There had barely been enough time to eat, let alone tell her parents just what had transpired at Finaqua. "Oh Daddy." She threw her arms around him. "So much has happened."

Lavender carefully nudged her husband aside. She too looked into her daughter's face, searching her eyes for the truth she sought. Slowly, she reached up to cup Az's face in her soft, tiny hands. "Oh my darling," was all she could say. The queen could feel the Light inside her; unfettered, bright, and powerful. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before.

"It's cleansed now," Az said softly. "Darkness holds no sway there."

"Nor does it have any hold on you, my daughter," Lavender whispered. Her heart was full, almost overflowing. "And it never has. You are truly a Guardian of the Light." She embraced Azkadellia tightly.

"Okay, there is no way that I'm getting left out of this family moment," DG announced. She threw her arms around her mother and her sister. Ahamo laughed and joined in. The four remained that way for quite some time, just as they had on that day when the Light had returned to the Outer Zone.

Finally, Lavender drew back from the group hug, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. "Come," she said. "We will have tea, and you will tell your father and I everything that happened at Finaqua."

"All right," Az agreed. "But first, I want to ask you something, Mother."

"Yes, darling?"

Az swallowed but squared her shoulders. "I want to go with the Riders tomorrow."

* * *

Later that night, Az paced around the elegantly manicured gardens of the Central Palace, still mulling over the request she'd made earlier. Both her mother and father had "hit the roof," as DG would say, immediately forbidding her to go. Lavender had been very vocal about the promise Az had made to withdraw from active Rider duty, while Ahamo pointed out the very real danger of dealing with former Longcoats. The family had ended up missing tea, instead spending the next hour or so in the meeting room debating the subject.

DG had unsurprisingly supported her older sister. Az was grateful that DG's time on the Other Side had strengthened her independence and headstrong ways. Her little sister refused to be coddled and balked at the thought of trivialities getting in the way of doing something important. DG understood Az's need to be with the Riders on a mission like this. For Az it was more than a sense of duty: it was a chance to prove herself and a chance to gain some closure. If she could help to eliminate the threat of the Longcoats forever…in any case, her parents had promised to think it over.

A warm hand fell on her shoulder. "Az."

"Jeb!" She spun around. "Don't you have planning to do?"

He grinned crookedly. "If I do any more planning, my head is likely to explode." He'd also felt that inevitable pull towards the gardens. Az needed him. When she needed him, it didn't matter where he was or what he was doing, he was going to go to her. He sighed inwardly. Boy, was he in deep.

"Still, you should be getting some rest," she scolded.

"And I will." Az was definitely anxious about something. He could see it in the tight set of her shoulders and the way that she paced around the clearing like a caged animal. He had a feeling that he knew exactly what was bothering her. "About the mission," he began.

"I don't want to stay behind!" she burst out.

Jeb could have said that he was surprised by her reaction, but that was a lie. "Then don't."

Instead, it was Az who was surprised. She stopped in her tracks and stared at him. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting from him, but it certainly hadn't been easy acquiescence. "You agree with me, Jeb? Should I come, even if my parents forbid it?"

He shoved his hands into his pockets and sighed. He couldn't deny that he wanted her to stay at the palace. He knew that she could blast him into oblivion with a thought, but that would never stop him from wanting to protect her in any way he could. Her power didn't matter because her power was meaningless in the face of the fact that he loved her. "Well, not if they forbid it, Az. You can't go around defying your parents. Even if you are the heir, they're the ultimate authority." He sighed and turned away. "Maybe it's best if you don't go," he murmured, almost to himself.

However, Az had keen hearing and took that statement in a very different way. "And why is that, Jeb Cain?" she demanded, putting her hands on her hips.

He was in serious trouble if she was using his surname. He could only be happy that she probably didn't know his full name, since the last one to say it in that tone of voice was his mother, and she had been petrifying when she was that angry at him. "Az, I didn't mean it that way. It's just that if you didn't come, I wouldn't have to worry about you-" He knew as soon as the words came out of his mouth that they were the wrong ones to say.

"_Worry _about me? Since when have I asked you to worry about me, Jeb? Am I a _distraction_?" Az couldn't believe what she was hearing. Jeb was one of the last people she would have expected to say such a thing, especially since he'd been the one to believe in her the most, next to DG.

"No!" Why was he getting the feeling that he was caught in a pool of sinking sand? "You're not a distraction! That's not what I'm trying to say!"

"Then what _are_ you trying to say?" she asked furiously. "You, of all people, know what this means to me. You know I'm not asking to come with the Riders every time there is a mission! If I'm such a liability, I'll make a glamour!" Her eyes glittered with determination. "If I make up my mind to go, who can truly stop me?"

"Az, I do know what it means to you!" Jeb stepped forward, his hands coming up in an attempt at placating her. "I'd be damned if I tried to hold you back from something that important, I mean it." This was the first time he'd been so truly clumsy with her and it was turning into the worst sort of misunderstanding. Somehow, the words were not coming to him. Additionally, the thought of her just coming along anyway was enough to stir a bit of panic in him.

Frustration bubbled up and through her, along with the beginnings of a headache. "You have an interesting way of saying it, Jeb."

She sounded tired, hurt, and angry. Jeb had never felt more helpless in his life. "Az-"

The glowing white light of a speaking spell caught their attention, but it was Jeb the spell went to. He put out his hand and the globe hovered, turning blue. "Commander Cain." Queen Lavender's soft voice wafted out of the ball of light. Please join me in my chambers. I would like to hear the plans that you and Lieutenant Switzer have for tomorrow."

"Right away, Your Majesty." As the spell dissolved, he glanced at Az. "This conversation isn't over," he promised.

Az had already turned her back on him, her arms folded tight across her body. She snorted, something she must have picked up from DG. "Go," she said shortly. "But don't attempt to find me after your meeting with my mother. After all, you need your rest for tomorrow, don't you?" Before he could utter another word, she dissolved into the background, disappearing from his sight.

Jeb almost kicked the stone bench beside him. It was their first real fight, and thanks to his clumsy mouth, he'd truly bollixed it up. He put his face in his hands and groaned. There was nothing else for it. He would go and report to the queen. Tomorrow, he would find Az first thing in the morning and apologize. Then he could ride off with a clear conscience.

* * *

**Please review!**

Right, show of hands: who saw the Longcoats coming? Haha, it had to be done. This is an Az-centric story, after all. There was a lot of lead-up in this chapter, but there should be enough teases in there to whet your appetite, yes (please say yes)? It'll be worth it, I promise! Y'all will have to be patient with me though, since this whole peril-drama-angst thing is still pretty new to me. You have MatsuMama to thank for wringing out every bit of the aforementioned trio from me. :)


	30. Storm Rising

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: "At Wit's End" from the PotC: At World's End soundtrack (it doesn't fit in all parts, so just bear with it), and "Enigmatic Soul" by Two Steps From Hell for the last section

* * *

Dreams came to her that night. The images exploded with vivid, fractured bursts, quickly fading into mist. Sounds and impressions came to her, hazy at times and crisply clear at others. There were shouts, whispered pleas, and screams, cut by the howling of the wind, the clash of steel on steel, and the metallic pop of pistols and rifles.

"_O Queen Ozma, that bright and shining star / And her daughters, of magic and dragons are / Must e'er sit upon the emerald throne / Else the land return to sand and stone," _DG intoned, her eyes bright and expectant as she stared at her sister.

"What does that mean?" Az shouted. Wind and sand whipped up around her as though she stood in the middle of the traveling sands. Freeheart came galloping out of the maelstrom, his onyx gaze remained fixed on her.

_Gather your strength and strengthen your heart, for you will need both._

"Why?"

Night-black eyes shifted to blue as Freeheart became Jeb. He looked at her sadly. "_Az_," was all he said, reaching for her.

Light burst through her, stronger and sweeter than it had ever been before. It was like being engulfed by the sun, though none of its heat burned her.

The brightness was so all-consuming that it jarred her into wakefulness. She wondered why she'd left her drapes open, but as she sat up, she realized that her drapes were indeed closed and the bright light was emanating from _her_. Az raised her glowing hands and stared at them with amazement. "Ozma help me," she breathed. The Light did not abate.

"This won't do," she muttered. With a frown of concentration, she focused on pulling the Light back. It flickered briefly, then flared even brighter, hurting her eyes. She gritted her teeth and yanked it back into her. With an almost sullen twist, the magic acquiesced, sinking beneath her skin. Az blinked as darkness settled around her once more. She deliberately suppressed any thoughts regarding the strangeness of the situation as she rose and threw open the drapes. There were more important matters to consider.

To her surprise, the sun was much higher than she expected it to be – the dream had kept her asleep far longer than she wished. "Lurline bless it," Az cursed, running over to her wardrobe. She had to talk to her mother and father one last time, but first, she had to talk to Jeb. She regretted avoiding him after their fight, but she'd been so hurt and angry that it would have been impossible to face him without being tempted to turn him into a toad. She was ashamed that she had not permitted him to truly explain his reasoning. As his friend, she should have listened.

Well, she was ready to listen now. Perhaps they could come to an understanding or compromise, and she could approach her parents once more. With that in mind, Az quickly donned her Rider gear and went down to the temporary stables that had been allotted for Rider use until their official headquarters in Central were completed.

The moment she entered the small complex, Az knew that something was wrong. The place was absolutely deserted. Surely Jeb and Jem would have roused the Riders for additional inspection and training. But there was no sign of life in the courtyard of the small mess hall. Az turned towards the stables, her heart pounding. Even before she registered the lack of equine noises, the tracks leading out of the giant doors confirmed her fears. The tracks were not fresh – they had been there for hours. The Riders must have ridden out at dawn.

They had left without her.

Az reeled with stupefied confusion. This sort of betrayal boggled the mind. Even though they'd had words last night, she never would have expected Jeb to pull such a horrible stunt by _leaving her behind_. How could he do such a thing? It made absolutely no sense.

"Horsemistress?"

Az whirled around. Gordy stood behind her and he shrank away from the thunderous expression on her face. "When did they leave, Gordy?"

"At dawn, Your Highness," the page squeaked. He'd never seen her so angry before, and it was nothing short of frightening. "Commander Cain left a message for you." He offered a small envelope.

Az took it with a frown, and then realized that she was terrifying the page. She sighed. "I'm sorry, Gordy. I'm not angry with you. Please, return to your duties." As the boy ran off, she regarded the note in her hand with a suspicious eye. Finally, her curiosity got the better of her and she opened it.

Jeb's neat scrawl greeted her. _I'm sorry, Az. It was a direct order_.

"A direct…" Az trailed off and stared hard at the stable walls. The Riders had been ordered to leave without her? Who would give such an order? No one had that kind of authority except…her eyes widened. Despite her lingering anger, she was ashamed for doubting Jeb. He would never do something so under-handed _unless_ it was ordered.

And Jeb only answered to one person: her mother.

* * *

DG covered her yawn with the back of her hand as she eyed the supplicants and courtiers in the audience chamber. They had been trickling in for the past few minutes to line up for the morning's audience with her mother. DG always found this sort of thing to be deathly boring, but today was Az's turn to sit in, and she hoped that by taking her sister's shift, Mother and Father would relent and allow Az to go with the Riders. She'd cheerfully endure a morning of boredom if it meant that Az could do what she was meant to do. The younger princess sincerely hoped that Az's absence meant that she was already saddling up.

Glitch entered the chamber from one of the two discreet side entrances. He raised an eyebrow as he approached the dais and sat in the chair to the right of the throne. "DG, what are you doing here? It's Azkadee's turn today, you know."

"If you hadn't left the chess game early last night, you'd know why I'm here," DG said irritably. After last night's unsuccessful attempt to change her parents' minds about Az, she'd slunk off to join Glitch and General Trevelyan for their usual game of chess. Somehow, she'd wound up playing the general while Glitch was called away to her mother. He hadn't returned, leaving DG and the general alone to finish their game. DG hadn't minded that so much, since the general had a great sense of humor and was patient despite her abominable chess skills.

The Queen's Adviser coughed and shifted uncomfortably. "Right, about that-"

The opposite side door opened and a herald paraded in. "The Queen of the Outer Zone," he said solemnly. The courtiers and petitioners knelt, while DG and Glitch stood up. Queen Lavender walked out with Wyatt Cain and General Trevelyan at her back. Her eyebrow winged upwards when she caught sight of her daughter, but she came up the dais and sat down on the throne.

"Please rise," Queen Lavender said to the supplicants. "Kindly give your name to my herald and announce your intentions." She turned to look at DG. "It is kind of you to sit here in your sister's stead, my angel," she said in an undertone. "Have you seen her?"

DG shrugged. "No. I hoped that she'd be getting ready to go out with the Riders, Mother," she said pointedly.

There was a faint crease in the queen's forehead. "I see."

DG raised an eyebrow. Maybe she was crazy, but she thought she'd detected a bit of resignation and uncertainty in her mother's voice. What did that mean? But now was not the time to question her mother.

They were hardly halfway through the second plea when the double doors of the main entrance to the audience chamber blew inwards. They opened with such force that the heavy wooden panels bounced off the marble walls with a thunderous crack. Courtiers, guardsmen, and petitioners scattered to both sides of the room as Az stormed in, radiating anger, hurt, and betrayal. The men and women of the Gale Force were instantly on guard, pointing their weapons in Az's direction.

"Az?" DG gasped, scrambling to her feet and crossing to her sister. "What's wrong?"

"Not now, DG," Az snapped, her violet gaze focused on her mother.

Lavender exchanged a glance with Glitch as the spectators began to whisper amongst themselves. Together, the queen and her adviser stood. "Commander Cain, please have your people stand down," she said before turning to her daughter. "Azkadellia-"

"Why, mother?" Az demanded. "Why did you order the Riders to go on without me? Why did you resort to ordering Jeb to sneak off behind my back? _How could you do this_?" That last statement was nothing more than a whispered shriek. The murmurs from the crowd grew louder.

DG's jaw dropped. "Is this true, Mother?" she demanded, whirling to face the queen.

Lavender sighed. "Guards, please escort our guests outside. I fear we must reschedule this audience for next week. I will send for one of my clerks to take your names and your pleas, so that we may address them as quickly as possible."

In Central City, everything worked like a well-oiled machine. The audience chamber was cleared in minutes with no fuss, though many curious eyes fell on the royal family. It was quite a sight: the queen standing serene on the dais while her two daughters faced her from below. Rumors would spread like wildfire across Central, there was no doubt about that.

The queen waited until everyone had left, save for Wyatt, Glitch, General Trevelyan, and her daughters. "Azkadellia, I wish you hadn't done that in front of the court," she said tiredly. "Now there will be gossip."

"There will always be gossip when I'm around, Mother," was the swift reply. "I want to know why you ordered the Riders to go without me."

"It was for your own good," Lavender began.

"No, that type of answer is no longer acceptable," Az interrupted. She was tired of being coddled, tired of being kept in the shadows. Once she would have welcomed such treatment, but no longer. It was more than an issue of being protected; it was a matter of being held back.

"How is it unacceptable?" The queen remained standing, staring down at her two daughters. "You are the heir presumptive, Azkadellia. You cannot be allowed into situations of unnecessary danger." She thanked Lurline that the chamber had been cleared. Such a statement would have started a firestorm. There had been no official notice of Az's status as heir, but to have the queen admit so in public – well. There were still many who believed that DG should sit on the Emerald Throne.

Az's eyes narrowed. "And yet as the last wielders of magic in this land, we cannot help but be placed at the front lines. You know that as well as I do, Mother."

"That is only when the situation calls for it, Azkadellia! The Riders are fully capable of carrying out their duties without you. You cannot ride out on every mission that they are given."

"I realize that, Mother! But…I wanted to be with them for this mission. Because of the Riders, I've become a part of something. Can't you see that this mission is an opportunity for closure?" Az hugged her arms around her body defensively.

The queen was silent for a moment. She stepped down from the dais and offered her hands to Az. After some hesitation, Az took them. "I am sorry, dear one. I did what had to be done. I hope you will understand my reasoning in due time. Can you not achieve some closure by having this Longcoat army marched back in chains and sentenced to the mines?" In a much softer voice, she continued. "I cannot lose you again. This is why I cannot regret my decision."

Az felt her heart soften slightly. She could accept her mother's apology, but only to a certain point. "You cannot protect me forever, Mother. Especially if you want me to step forward and claim the title of heir. I will always seek and accept your counsel, but I will make my own decisions."

Before Lavender could respond, Ahamo came striding through one of the side entrances to the audience chamber. The expression on his handsome face was grim. His gaze flicked towards his daughters and Glitch before it settled on his wife. "I have bad news. The reports were a trap. The numbers of Longcoats were severely underestimated. They have supplemented their numbers by adding bandit groups to their banner."

Queen Lavender exhaled sharply and dropped Az's hands. "How many?"

"Enough to overwhelm the Riders and be a threat to the city and the Royal Army should they get here. Estimates say about a thousand." DG froze. Wyatt's hands clenched behind his back and Glitch paled.

Az was aghast. Despite its size, the O.Z. had never sustained a proportional population. The civil war that followed the witch's uprising had wiped out a considerable portion of the population, and many citizens had fled the country as refugees in the following years. As a result, the O.Z.'s citizens were mostly very old or very young. "How?" she managed. "How could so many gather without anyone noticing?"

"We haven't had time to conduct a proper census," Glitch murmured. "Not everyone who went into hiding has come out. We have no idea how many people are in the mountains and the Great Gillikin."

General Trevelyan was swearing under his breath. Second Company had already taken to the road after the Riders, leaving only a company of eighty men to guard the city alongside the Central Police. The depopulation of the O.Z. had hit the Royal Army quite hard. When he'd taken control, he'd had to reduce the size of a company in order to maintain a strong presence in the countryside.

"General, how soon will Sixth Company be here?" Lavender asked.

"Midday, Your Majesty," he replied. "I can recall First and Third and they will be here by nightfall tomorrow. But if we evacuate the surrounding area and bar the gates to Central, Sixth, Eighth, and the Central Police will be able to hold the city until they arrive."

Lavender was deep in thought. She glanced at Ahamo. "Do we have any information concerning this army's current location?"

"They are a few hours' march from Shiz," he confirmed.

Lavender turned to the general. "Will Second arrive in time to hold the university?" The town of Shiz and its prestigious university were housed in a walled city overlooking a plain. It would be the ideal place to halt the Longcoat army's approach.

"They will be there," General Trevelyan promised. They had left Central at dawn alongside the Riders, though they would not reach the university town until midday. Doubtless, the Riders had passed Shiz at midmorning.

"Then I want you to apprise them of the situation and give them new orders to halt at Shiz and hold it as long as possible. Send Eighth to aid them. Sixth will guard Central City with the Central Police." She paused. "I will take no chances. Recall Third from Eastern Guild territories and send them to Shiz. I want First recalled here to the city. Can this be done?"

His brown eyes were alert. The queen's strategy was sound, even if he objected to the redistribution of his forces. "Third will have to cross the Madeleines, but they should be at Shiz by midday tomorrow and First here by first light if I recall them now. Eighth should reach Shiz by mid-afternoon or dusk if they leave now."

"Please do so." General Trevelyan bowed and left at a brisk walk. "Commander Cain, please notify the Gale Force and the Central Police. The Central Police are in charge of evacuating the villages in the immediate vicinity of Central behind its walls. The Gale Force must ready the defenses. Ambrose, they will need your help."

"It will be done, Your Majesty." Wyatt bowed and exited hastily with Glitch on his heels. The two of them were already discussing tactics.

"And what of the Riders, Mother?" Az asked quietly. "Are we simply going to forget about them?"

The queen looked at her daughter. Though her eyes were sad, her expression was set. "My darling, there is nothing we can do for them. The Royal Army will not arrive in time if they have been surprised by this army and engaged them. I pray they have not. If Lurline is willing, perhaps their skill will keep them alive long enough for them to meet with the Royal Army and destroy this threat."

It was everything a queen should say. But Az was not queen – not yet. On some level, she knew exactly what her mother meant. Their hands were tied. Doubtless, the Riders had already stumbled upon the Longcoats, but with such small numbers there was nothing they could do. The Royal Army was slow to respond, hence the need for the Riders in the first place.

But another part of Az could not believe that her mother would be so callous. They were the _Queen's _Riders – how could she simply abandon them? Her friends faces flashed in her mind: sweet Anka, brash Windy, bawdy Sula, gentle Bo, and loyal Jem. The thought of losing them and the rest of the new Riders, all of that potential, infuriated her. And Jeb – he was being consigned to certain death. Jeb, whose neck she wanted to wring yet was more precious to her than almost anything in this world.

She was never going to let that happen. Not while there was breath in her body. "I will go."

"What?" Lavender said over DG's gasp and Ahamo's protest. "No, Azkadellia. I will not allow you to do such a reckless thing. You will stay here-"

"While my friends fight and lose their lives in a situation that could have been handled differently?" Az demanded, her hands clenching into fists at her side. "No, Mother. I will not lose them." The mere thought of it was enough for her to stand up to the woman that she loved, admired, and respected most of all. She might have accepted staying behind five minutes ago – but five minutes ago she hadn't known the extent of the danger her friends were facing.

For the first time, Lavender's eyes flashed. "Azkadellia Rosamund Gale, I _forbid_ it!"

Az's temper snapped. "You cannot stop me!" she shouted. In the space of one breath, she released her hold over her newly-discovered power. Its strength was enough to visibly bend the air around her as light glowed, filling the chamber. "I will not be held back. You have done so once and you will not do it again!" She would be damned if she was left to huddle and cower while her friends – while _Jeb_ – were abandoned.

Lavender almost staggered at the force of her daughter's power. She'd known that it was whole and pure, but this revelation was nothing short of astounding. Even when Az was under the witch's control she'd never wielded so much power. "Azkadellia."

A hint of sorrow crossed Az's face. "I'm sorry, Mother. But I will not leave the Riders to the whims of fate. Lock down the city. We will be back and I will face your judgment then." With a slight apologetic nod to DG and her father, Az turned and left the audience chamber, her mottled winter cloak billowing in her wake.

Once she left, the pressure in the chamber decreased dramatically. The other members of the royal family could breathe easier. Ahamo approached his wife and wrapped his arms around her. "I told you, Lavender. Hold her back and she'll explode."

"All I wanted to do was protect her," she replied tiredly. She closed her eyes and suddenly the lines in her face were much more pronounced.

"And who can blame you?" His voice was sympathetic. "But look at her. She's an adult. She's smart, capable, and level-headed. And she has power unlike anything we've ever seen."

"Yes." Lavender opened her eyes and looked at her youngest daughter. "My angel, did you know about this?"

DG crossed her arms. "What do I know of magic?" she asked. "All I know is that her time in cave changed her. If it unlocked that potential within her, that's great. She can use it to save the Riders. Mother, I love you, but I can't believe that you made them sneak away. You know what they mean to her, and I _think_ you know what Jeb means to her. She would never accept that." She sighed and scuffed the floor with the toe of her boot.

"I…" For once, the queen was at a loss for words. "I believe that I know that now. But darling, wait until you have children of your own before you pass judgment so harshly."

"I'm not judging you, Mother," DG said gently, detecting the anguish in her mother's voice. She came forward and took Lavender's hands, just as Az had held them earlier. "I'm just…pointing out your mistake." She kissed her on the cheek. "She'll be back with the Riders, don't worry. And now, I'm off to help Wyatt coordinate the tin men."

Her parents watched her exit. "Wyatt, is it?" Ahamo mused once she'd disappeared from sight. "Looks like we'll be getting grandchildren sooner rather than later."

Lavender laughed despite herself. "It does seem that way, my love." She sighed heavily.

"Hey now, no sulking." Ahamo turned her to face him and pressed his forehead to hers. "Az will forgive you."

"Yes, but I must forgive myself first. How do I manage to hurt her so?"

"We have a saying on the Other Side: you always hurt the ones you love," he murmured. "It is because we are so close that the wounds we inflict on each other dig much deeper."

"You speak the truth, my love."

"Of course I do." He grinned. "Come now, chin up Lavender. You have to brief the House of Lords and the House of Commons on the situation."

She huffed out a breath at the thought of dealing with those pompous windbags. "They're going to demand that we focus on the safety of themselves, their families, and their lands before the safety of the citizens."

"And you will convince them that the citizens come first, as you always do."

"Indeed." Lavender straightened and looked at him, affection clear in her eyes. "I love you."

"And I you." He kissed her briefly.

"What will you be doing?"

He winked. "Oh, this and that. But I'll be nearby." He took her hand. "Come on, let's go." The queen and her consort exited the audience room, ready to do perform their duties.

* * *

"Wyatt, wait up!"

Wyatt Cain stopped his patrol of the curtain wall and waited for DG to catch up. "What are you doing here, DG? Shouldn't you be helping your mother debrief both of the Houses?"

"Mother can deal with those windbags on her own." At his look, she relented. "I ran into Glitch and sent him back to help her, all right? I'm here to help you."

"There's not that much to do anymore," he said, looking out over the massive north-facing Shiz Gate. "Central Police have the evacuations in hand. They're bringing in people through Westgate and the Mousehole as we speak."

DG's lips twitched at the nickname for the biggest gate into the city. She sobered as a platoon of tin men jogged past, poised and ready. "What about Milltown?"

"Yeah." He glanced at her. "Don't worry. Hank and Emily are with the Milltown group. I'm having the group in charge of the Milltown evacuation bring them straight to the palace."

"Thanks." She looked forward to seeing Mom and the real Popsicle once more, despite the circumstances of this visit. "So, what's the Royal Army doing in all of this?"

"I can answer that." General Trevelyan came up behind them. "Sixth is moving their pretty little butts here and should be arriving within the hour or I'll know why. Two platoons will be stationed here, and one each on Eastgate and Westgate. Once they're in place, those gates will be closed and all evacuations will be coming in from the Mousehole courtesy of Central Police. Once that's complete, half of them will take up position there while the rest of them deal with the evacuees."

DG gnawed on her lower lip. She didn't know too much about strategy, but once Sixth arrived in Central, that only meant that about two hundred men would be stationed on the city walls. "Will that be enough?" she ventured.

The general's eyes darkened. "It will have to be. Not that I like it."

Wyatt looked at the general and then turned to his own lieutenant. "I want all non-essential personnel from the palace to be sent to the walls. They are to take their orders from General Trevelyan. And make sure than all remaining essential personnel are on high alert." The young man saluted and ran off.

"I appreciate the gesture, Commander Cain, but are you sure it's one you can afford to make?" General Trevelyan asked.

Wyatt tried to shrug negligently, but the tightness of his shoulders gave him away. "As long as the gate personnel and the bodyguards are still in place, we should be fine. I don't like it anymore than you like the current strategy but it has to be done…at least until Sixth and First get here."

"Half of First," the older man corrected, grimacing slightly at the thought of more bad news. "We can't completely pull out of the Realm of the Unwanted. Two platoons are making their merry way here. Lucky for us, two platoons move quicker than a full company. They'll be here by dawn and then we'll split them between Eastgate and Westgate. One platoon of Sixth will move down to the Mousehole while the other will join their fellow platoons at Shiz Gate. That should free up the Central Police."

"It's not the best, but it's the plan we've got." Wyatt saluted the general. "We'll take our leave of you, sir. I need to get the princess back to the palace."

"But-" DG began.

General Trevelyan raised one scarred eyebrow in her direction and she subsided. He returned Wyatt's salute with a faint glimmer of humor in his eyes. "Go. We'll hold the fort."

Thanks to the palace vehicle that DG had "borrowed," the two were back inside the palace complex within minutes. "So, where's Azkadellia?" Wyatt asked as they exited the garage.

"Isn't it obvious? She went after Jeb."

"Azkadellia went after the Riders on her own?" Wyatt said incredulously. "And what force made your mother let her go?"

"Az," DG said simply.

"That doesn't tell me anything." His brow was creased with irritation at her flippant behavior.

The princess rolled her eyes. "That should tell you everything. Surely you've noticed the change in Az. She wasn't going to take something like that lying down."

A blond eyebrow arched upwards. "Are you suggesting that I am, DG?" He didn't really have time for this conversation, but DG always did get distracted when they quibbled like this. If he could maneuver her into a safe place then he was well prepared to indulge her.

"Well, you didn't seem too concerned with the news about the trap."

"DG, I have a duty to perform, and it always comes first. That does _not_ mean that I'm not worried for Jeb or the others. I trust their abilities, especially my son's. They'll get through it." He paused. "Now, speaking of duty…"

DG realized that while they'd been talking, Wyatt had somehow steered her to her room in the palace. Something immediately clicked in her brain. "Wyatt, if you think that I'm going to sit in my room twiddling my thumbs while all of this is going on, you've got another thing coming."

"DG, don't argue with me about this." He could already tell that this was going to be futile, but you couldn't blame a man for trying.

Cornflower-blue eyes flashed dangerously. "Too bad, Wyatt, it looks like you've got an argument on your hands. You were there in the audience chamber, you've been there at Finaqua, and you've been with me since I dropped back into the O.Z., so you know that neither Az nor I take very kindly to being held back or protected!"

Wyatt made a noise of frustration at the back of his throat and ran a hand through his hair, wishing for his hat. "Believe me, princess, I've learned that lesson. However, with everyone spread so thin, I can't take chances. Most of the Gale Force is on guard duty now at the wall-"

"And whose fault is that?" she demanded. "Sixth is supposed to be arriving any minute now, right? You didn't have to send them away!"

"The walls are the first line of defense for the city, princess. We can't afford to have them unmanned for even a minute until this whole thing is resolved. Princess, try to see things my way," he said. He could already see that DG wasn't going to budge unless he played the cards that until now, he'd held very close to his chest. The question was if he was ready to do so.

There was something entirely mulish about the set of DG's face. "And what is it that I should try to see, hmmm?" She crossed her arms and tapped her toe.

Damn it. Wyatt wondered just what it was about dire situations that had him pouring his heart out to this woman. All or nothing, Wyatt Cain. He took a breath and stepped forward, crowding DG against her wardrobe. "The Longcoats took my reason for living once. I'm not letting them do it again."

All of DG's smart comments died in her throat. It was Finaqua all over again. All of the feelings she had for him rose up in one enormous wave, threatening to engulf her. However, this was different. This time she knew that she was not alone, that her feelings were not only echoed, but returned a thousand times. It was all there, reflected in eyes that burned bright sapphire-blue, inches away from her own. It was all she could do to keep breathing. "Oh," was all she could say as she lifted a hand to his cheek.

Wyatt closed his eyes and turned to press his lips to the palm of her hand. "I see that you understand me now, DG."

"Loud and clear, Wyatt," she said shakily, feeling her insides turn to molten liquid at the small caress. "But I'm coming with you. We'll protect each other, all right?"

He opened his eyes and the look in them burned right through her. "Always," he promised. Then, just like at Finaqua, he moved closer, achingly slow until DG thought she was going to go insane from anticipation. She waved goodbye to sanity as his breath feathered over her lips, his smoldering gaze still intent on hers…

Only to stop when the first spray of bullets exploded on the wall beside them.

* * *

**Reviews are love.**

Apologies again for the long wait between updates. I've been buried under the data sets for my dissertation, on top of planning a conference for grad students. The conference was a success and the dissertation is coming along quite nicely! But back to the story - we're finally in the thick of the action, even though there's still a lot of talking going on. Sorry, I like it when my characters stand around and talk! But DG and Wyatt have _finally _resolved things, so a celebration is in order! Lucky lucky DG, she just keeps getting pinned to walls by Wyatt. I was so jealous that I wrote in that cliffie just to interrupt the moment. Just kidding. That _was _a pretty evil interruption, though...anyway, thank MatsuMama the wonderbeta for convincing me to write that little DG/Wyatt moment! She's fantastic, as always!


	31. Storm Landing

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: "Attack" from the Pearl Harbor soundtrack - keep the volume low, as it doesn't mesh with all parts. I'm finding it more and more difficult to find music that fits. Ah, if only I could compose my own soundtrack! However, "Labor of Love" from the Star Trek 2009 soundtrack works perfect for the end, when Az catches sight of Dunstan.

* * *

Az paid no heed to the servants that scattered from her path as she strode from the audience chamber to the stables. She refused to walk into this situation blindly and without a plan. It went against everything she'd learned, both as the heir apparent and a member of the Riders. Even if she pushed Freeheart as far as she dared, even if she could somehow find a way to replicate Iamar and Qurban's desperate ride across the desert, she would not reach the Riders in time to make a difference. She had to call a travel storm and hope that she was left with enough in her reserves to take care of the Longcoat army. This meant she had to be even more careful. Travel storms were not subtle, to say the least.

Light seemed to pulse beneath her skin, as though it was just begging for her to let it out. Well, this was one instinct that she would heed.

First, Az had to find the Riders. She pulled a small hand mirror from the pouch at her side. After a few short words, her reflection dissolved to reveal the scene.

The members of the second Rider group, or Bane, as they preferred to be called, galloped through the streets of Red Sand, the village easily recognizable because of its red brick houses. Az knew all too well the buried pain and resignation as the villagers gathered essential belongings, preparing to leave everything behind. The citizens of the O.Z. had been living on a knife's edge for so long that fleeing had become second nature.

"This was supposed to be a time of peace," Red Sand's mayor protested to Jem. He clutched a worn fur cloak to a body that had once been round and plump and was now gaunt and weary.

"Peace will come," Jem replied, conviction clear in his voice. His faith made Az want to weep. She vowed then and there that she would make it so that Jem's words were not in vain.

The scene changed to a similar one only a few miles down the road at Dixxi House, where Micah was doing the harrying with the other half of Bane.

"We had better get these people on their way," Windy muttered to Anka as they rode in a circuit around the village outskirts to warn any stragglers. "I don't like leaving Right Hand so vulnerable."

Anka's pale eyes were sharp as she peered into a barn. "Soon enough," she assured her friend. "Do you think your sister and Bo have reached Second?"

"Why do you think Commander Cain sent them?" he replied. "Desertflower and Starlight are the fastest horses in the Riders. Second will know our position and that we'll be ready to flank the Longcoats on their weak side."

"If Right Hand can find it."

"They will. Now come on, I think we got everyone."

Az dismissed the image with a frown. So, Bane was evacuating and warning the two villages that lay between the approaching army and Shiz. If she understood Windy correctly, then Right Hand was scouting the army. The two groups with then meet and act as a light cavalry once the Longcoats engaged the Royal Army, possibly on the fields surrounding Shiz. It would be a sound strategy – but only _if_ the Riders had numbered more than thirty. Even if they engaged the Longcoats at the same time, the odds were not in their favor. Their ability could only take them so far.

However, if she managed get there in time, it could make all the difference.

In the stable yards, Freeheart was already out of his stall, saddled and dancing with impatience whilst ignoring the pleas of the stable master. "Your Highness, I'm sorry, but he won't-" he began.

"It's all right," she interrupted gently. "I have need of him. Thank you." She vaulted into the saddle and Freeheart sprinted out of the complex and towards Shiz Gate. She hoped that General Trevelyan had not closed the gates just yet. She did not want to have to call a travel storm within the city, but would if she had to.

Luck was on her side. The massive iron doors to the Shiz Gate were only just beginning to close as they approached. Freeheart put on an extra burst of speed and they were free. Az had already begun spinning the threads of the storm and with one burst of energy the storm erupted from the sky, sweeping them up in its embrace.

Once Az and Freeheart were airborne, the princess took stock of her options once more. She did not want to use her magic to fight. That truth had rooted itself deep in her heart long ago, even before the rediscovery of the extent of her Light. She was determined to spill no blood. If she used her magic – and Az knew she would – it would have to be in nonviolent ways. Justice would be dispensed as it had been for hundreds of years: fairly, and by trial.

Unfortunately, the size of the Longcoat army limited the number of things she could do. A thousand men could only be handled through large, complex magical workings. Those workings were almost always guaranteed fatalities, for they drew their strength from elemental magic. No, that option was out of her hands.

Az heaved a resigned sigh and steered the travel storm forward. It looked as though she would have to do some improvising after all.

She set down in a clearing only a few miles from Red Sand. She would go to Jeb and Right Hand. They were in a more precarious position, and would benefit from her cloaking spells. With that in mind, she reached for her mirror to scry their position.

The scene swirled and settled to reveal Dunstan and half of Right Hand. The older man was frowning. "I don't like this," he said aloud. His voice was pitched only to carry to his fellow Riders. "We ain't seen hide or tail of our dear friends for the past fifteen minutes. Where did they go?"

"Ain't possible to hide an army that big, Lieutenant," drawled Martel, one of Right Hand's best scouts and a friend of Windy's.

Dunstan scowled. "That's obvious enough, Martel. Why don't you go find them so that we know where we'll need to flank them?"

The Rider at the back of the train held up a hand. "Hush," she hissed.

Dunstan was instantly alert. "What do you hear, Vera?"

The woman put a hand to her lips and pointed to the air. Everyone came to a halt and listened. In the distance, there was a faint horn call. It was almost inaudible to Az, but the Riders recognized it well enough.

Martel blanched. "Hell, that's the commander!"

"Move out, Riders!" Dunstan ordered. "There's trouble, and we'd better get there fast." The Riders turned as one and galloped in the direction of the horn blast.

Az almost dropped her mirror when a similar tune echoed through the woods west of her position. She had been so preoccupied with scrying that she'd tuned it out. As the notes became clearer, she realized why the Riders had been so anxious to respond.

_Distress. Help. Bring reinforcements._

There was no time to waste. "Freeheart, go!" she ordered, turning the stallion in the direction of the horn blasts.

* * *

Wyatt's reaction to the hail of bullets was instantaneous. He shoved DG to the side of the wardrobe as he drew his pistol, shielding her with his body as he returned fire. He didn't know how the shooter could have missed, seeing as he and DG had been utterly preoccupied with each other, but he was grateful all the same.

The shooter stood in the doorway, dressed in palace livery. He was nondescript in every way, meaning that he could have been hidden among the palace servants for quite some time. The assassin carried a firearm that Wyatt could not identify, but it spewed out bullets at a rate that was almost frightening. Despite the situation, the former Tin Man could not help but admire the firearm. In a moment of misplaced envy, he wondered what he'd have to bribe Glitch with in order to get one like that.

"Do you have a plan?" DG shouted in Wyatt's ear, her ardor considerably cooled. "Not that I'm complaining about your sharpshooting, Wyatt, but we can't stay here much longer!" Their little hiding place wasn't going to hold for much longer. At the rate that bullets were coming at them, there was no way that they could get to the hidden escape route in her bathroom.

Wyatt ducked and cursed as bullets struck the wall only inches from his ears. "Thanks for pointing that out, princess. I think you're the one most suited for getting us out of this though, don't ya think?"

DG paused. In the heat of the moment, she'd forgotten all about her magic. "Hold on!" After a few seconds, a translucent blue bubble sprang up around them. "I hope this works!"

Wyatt didn't hesitate. "Let's move!" He grabbed her arm and they bolted towards her bathroom. Bullets bounced off the shield as the assassin came after them. Wyatt slammed the bathroom door shut and pushed the half-wardrobe full of towels and robes in front of it. DG hurried to the far side of the room and pushed a sequence of tiles on the wall above her bathtub. With a groan, the bathtub shifted out of the way to reveal a flight of stairs. The two clambered down and Wyatt pressed a lever that moved the bathtub back in place.

"What the hell was that?" DG demanded as they descended.

"I don't know, but I have an inkling," Wyatt said grimly. "You better have that shield ready when we exit into the servant's quarters."

"What do you mean? There can't possibly be-"

"DG, just do as I say, please? We're here." The stairs stopped at a seemingly solid wall that opened up into a corridor in the servants' quarters.

The princess blew out a breath. "Fine, but I'll want that explanation later." The bubble shield snapped into place around them as Wyatt pulled a hidden handle that caused the wall to slide open. They stepped out cautiously, but there was not a soul to be seen.

DG sighed. "See Wyatt, I told you-"

She shrieked as two liveried servants appeared from nowhere and threw themselves at the pair, bouncing harmlessly off the shield. These two, a man and woman, were as nondescript as the one who'd attacked them in her quarters. Within moments, they were both on their feet, drawing those same odd guns. The shield was peppered with bullets.

Wyatt grabbed her hand. "Run, DG, and keep that shield up!"

That was easier said than done, but DG did her best. She wished that she were better at multitasking. "Who _are_ these people?"

"Best guess? Assassin's Guild from Quox," Wyatt replied.

"There's an _Assassin's_ Guild here?"

"There's a guild for everything in Quox," he said with dark humor. He sincerely hoped that he wasn't right. The Assassin's Guild was no joke. Operatives were killed if they didn't complete a contract. They were impossible to question and were impervious to torture. Even if someone did manage to get an operative to talk, they usually didn't know who hired them in the first place. All orders come down from the Guildmaster.

The use of so many assassins did not bode well. One needed deep pockets to hire even the lowest-level operative. The Guild was also especially picky about granting contracts. Someone with a lot of influence and money wanted the House of Gale out of the picture – there was no way that the rag-tag Longcoat army was behind this.

"Pretty convenient of them to attack now, since everyone's all over the place…" DG trailed off as she caught Wyatt's sidelong glance. "Except it's not convenient, right?" Her voice went up. "This is a trap!"

"Got it in one, princess," was the grim reply. "Whoever set this up is pretty clever. They already knew the Royal Army was spread thin, so this Longcoat army must have been some kind of ruse to lure as many companies of the army away from Central as possible."

DG filled in the blanks. With the city on siege alert, all remaining law enforcement was spread thin throughout the city. With half of the Central Police on the walls and the other half helping the evacuees and Sixth still in transit, Wyatt had ordered all non-essential personnel from the Gale Force to the walls. This left the royal family and their allies vulnerable to just this sort of sneak attack. "Son of a bitch!" she swore.

"DG, do you know if your parents are all right?"

A lump rose to her throat. She hadn't thought about them until now. "I can't send a speaking spell to Mother right now," she admitted. "If she's holding off an assassin it would only distract her. Her Light is too weak. But…Glitch was supposed to be with her by now-"

"And Glitch is more than capable of protecting her. Your father is, too."

"We need to go to them-"

"_No_." Wyatt's grip tightened on her wrist. "Trust me on this, DG. We can't have all of you in the same place. That's just asking for trouble. The best thing to do is keep moving, and to take out as many of these bastards as possible."

DG wanted to protest. Her mother was especially vulnerable right now. She couldn't help but feel like she needed to be by her side. But Wyatt was right. Glitch and her father would protect her mother with their lives. She was in good hands. If they were all together, one well-timed bomb would make easy work of them – and she wasn't going to put bombs past these assassins. She shuddered as what looked like poison darts explode on the wall beside her. "Now is not the time to get creative!" she shouted petulantly over her shoulder.

There was no response from the assassins. They simply kept coming.

At least Az wasn't here…though if her older sister were here, DG had no doubt that between the two of them, they could take them down painlessly. Az knew so many spells. Not for the first time, DG regretted not paying more attention to Tutor's lessons. "I'm guessing that we need to keep moving."

"Yes," Wyatt said distractedly, looking over his shoulder at the pursuing assassins. "It's too dangerous to dig in, even with this shield."

"I'm not much use offensively, if that's the case. I can't run, keep this up, and attack at the same time." It was already taking quite a bit of her concentration to move and keep the shield with them.

"Don't worry about it. Any way you can make this thing one-way so that I can shoot from inside?"

"I can try." She was about to close her eyes when she remembered that that was probably a bad thing. "Running into walls is not conducive to fighting assassins," she muttered.

"What was that, DG?"

"Just give me a minute!" She pictured the bubble in her mind. She'd structured it to be as strong and impermeable as bullet-proof glass and as flexible as taffy. Now she wanted it to keep its strength and flexibility, but to allow certain objects to pass through it. Wyatt's bullets would be able to penetrate it the same way that a soap-covered hand could pass through a bubble. The only way to do that, she reasoned, was to cover anything that was supposed to go outside with her magic.

Wyatt was startled to find that his pistol and ammunition were glowing the same blue as the shield around him. "DG, what-" he began.

"Try it now!"

Wyatt turned around and fired. A bullet sailed cleanly through the shield, shattering a vase beside one of the assassins. "Perfect. Great job, princess."

The look in his eyes as he grinned at her sent a thrill up her spine. That he could make her feel like _this _even when they were in mortal danger… "Stick with me, kid," she quipped with a smile of her own. "We'll go places."

"As if there was any doubt." He reloaded and turned to fire again as they ran through the halls of Central Palace.

* * *

Az tried to keep her thoughts positive as she and Freeheart crashed through the woods at breakneck speed. She would reach them in time. She had to. It was the only acceptable conclusion. The Riders had come too far. It would be too cruel for all of their hard work to come to nothing.

The same principle applied to her. The Riders had helped her become the person she was now. All of her growth and all of her strength had a purpose. She could not have defied her mother only to have her reasons disappear into dust.

Suddenly, searing pain exploded in her head, threatening to split her skull in half. Az reeled backwards in Freeheart's saddle as colorful lights burst in front her eyes. The black stallion reared, surprised by the sudden shift in her balance. She gritted her teeth and held on as the lights coalesced into scene that made her blood run cold.

It was hazy and frenetic, marking both the action and the emotion. "_Retreat_, damn it!" Jeb roared as Strongwind reared slightly, tossing his head.

"We _can't_, Commander Cain!" Dunstan yelled back, his voice barely audible over the terrifying _pop _of gunshots and hisses of arrows. "They've cut us off! We've no way out!"

Her spell remained focused on Jeb. Az read the resignation and determination in Jeb's face and knew that he was ready to do whatever it took to get Right Hand away from the Longcoats. "Then we'll make one," he said bleakly. "Riders, form up!" he called.

The vision – for it _was_ a vision – faded as quickly as it came, leaving Az gasping for breath, clinging to Freeheart as he galloped on. She had no time to recover from foreboding images and was therefore unprepared when she and Freeheart came upon the edges of the battleground.

Though the fight had clearly moved on, the signs of intense fighting were everywhere. The ground was churned up, with snow and soil rapidly mixing to form a muddy slush that was turning the forest into a deadly frozen swamp. Fallen rebels and Longcoat corpses littered the ground, and Az had to close her eyes to keep from vomiting. Despite the witch's love of carnage, Az had never become immune to the visceral imagery of battle, and she prayed she never would be.

A weak voice drifted out of the trees. "If you're here to kill me, be quick about it. I've been bleeding long enough."

Both Az and Freeheart started. They knew that voice – in fact, Az had only heard it moments before. "Martel?" she ventured, slipping off Freeheart's back.

The young man was propped against a tree, his skin gray with blood loss. From the crimson stain on his winter whites, she knew it would not be long before he died. Her heart ached at the injustice of it all. He should have had many more years to serve with the Riders.

"Horsemistress?" he whispered incredulously. "You ain't supposed to be here."

"Yes, I am," was the firm reply as she knelt beside him.

He smiled tremulously. "Good. We need you. You gotta…use your magic to hide though. There's…too many of them."

It was coming close to the end. Az took his hand, determined to provide him with some amount of peace. "Where's Riverdancer?" she whispered.

"I 'spect she's….runnin' cross the Vedu version of heaven. Think I'll see her again?"

Az blinked, trying to keep the tears at bay. "Of course you will," she assured him.

Martel's eyes began to droop. "Nice of you to keep me company, Horsemistress." His voice got fainter. "Nice to see…a friendly face one last time."

Az bit her lip, blinking away angry tears as his hand went limp in hers. He was one of _hers_, damn it. He was a Queen's Rider. She'd trained him and watched him grow, only to see his life flicker out like a candle's flame.

"I'll return, Martel," she promised softly as she swung back on to Freeheart's back, wiping the wetness from her face. "You'll receive the burial and the accolade that you deserve." She could hear the sounds of battle now, and a grim sort of determination settled over her. No one else would share Martel's fate.

Especially Jeb. The look in his eyes in her vision had chilled her to the bone. It was a look that said he was more than willing to sacrifice himself, if it meant that the Riders could continue on.

Well, she was not willing to let him die. Not by a long shot.

But when she finally reached the rest of Right Hand, the scene she encountered was like one out of her nightmares, echoing her vision with horrifying accuracy.

The remaining Riders of Right Hand had managed to come together and were cornered against the base of a small cliff. They were vastly outnumbered, fighting at least five or six opponents at once. The rest of the combined Longcoat and bandit army were ranged around the cliff base, jeering and cheering. They did not even care if their fellow soldiers were killed. There were always more to take the place of the wounded or dead.

"Have a care for them horses now!" someone shouted. "Them's fine specimens of horseflesh!"

"Ain't worth it!" another said. "Did ye see what happened when we got that sweet thing an' her horse? Damn thing went mad, 'specially when the boys had their fun with the rider. Had to put a bullet in its head t'get it t'stop. Damn shame."

A wave of sickness washed across her. This was all a game to them. She could see now that the Longcoats were just toying with the Riders, fighting them until they were exhausted and shooting their horses when they tried to defend their riders. She wondered which woman they'd raped and tortured. Lotti? Vera? Lotti was a sweet little soul from Quadling Country who always had a kind word for everyone. Vera was a battle-axe and one of Dunstan's friends, with a tongue as sharp as Micah's. Az wasn't close to them, but she liked and respected them all the same. What made it worse was the fact that one or both of them were dead, despite her vow that no other Rider would die.

Battling fiercely with the hate that threatened to swamp her being, Az got to work. Shedding blood would do no good, she told herself over and over. She wasn't the witch. She didn't need to kill to be satisfied with justice.

All over the field, pistols and rifles jammed, bowstrings snapped, and knives crumbled into rusty chunks. Some soldiers sank up to their knees in ground that had gone soft and boggy beneath their feet. Others swayed and collapsed, suddenly overcome with fatigue. Chaos and confusion reigned as the Longcoats and bandits tried to ascertain the source of their sudden bad luck.

Unfortunately, it was too little, too late. There were too many of them for even Az to handle with her kill-no-one tactics. She could not stop every gun and she could not touch every soldier, not without compromising the vow she'd made. The tide of battle continued its slow and inexorable march towards an end that assured the annihilation of Right Hand.

Az watched with horror as Dunstan wheeled Thundercall around to defend Lotti, who was miraculously alive but losing ground against her opponents. Thundercall mowed down at least five men to get to the young woman's side. "Behind me, lass!" Dunstan bellowed, swinging his club in wide swathes, battering the soldiers that were foolish enough to run at him. The older man had lost the spear he so favored – it was most likely stuck in some Longcoat's corpse.

Thundercall had clearly succumbed to the blood rage that overcame Vedu horses in the thick of battle. The stallion was merciless; trampling, lashing out with his legs, and biting whatever was in reach. It was a terrifying trait, but one that the Vedu continued to encourage because of its usefulness in war. A Vedu horse would fight to the death alongside its rider, faithful until the end.

There was a _crack _of a pistol, and a starburst of red blossomed on Dunstan's shoulder, marring the whiteness of his winter gear. He only had time to let out one cry as he toppled from Thundercall's back. He disappeared under a pile of soldiers.

Thundercall went crazy. The strawberry stallion reared, its mane golden in the stark winter light. The stallion's hooves came down hard, crushing anything and everything that had the misfortune to be in its path. Its sides were streaked with foam and blood as it continued its grisly dance, avenging its rider with single-minded vengeance even as shots rained down on it from all sides. Thundercall's rampage only stopped when the bullets proved too much. The stallion collapsed and rolled over with one last defiant whinny before it went still.

Freeheart screamed at the loss of a brother. Az did not, but wept as she had for Martel. Dunstan was a good and brave man, and he'd been an excellent second-in-command for Right Hand. She would mourn his death. She added his name to the debt the rebel army owed her. Martel and Riverdancer. Vera and Wintersbane. Dunstan and Thundercall.

The litany of names was enough to force Az to redouble her efforts. Guns flew out of their owners' hands while the ground beneath their feet grew more treacherous. Vines grew out of trees to snag running soldiers while tree roots darted out of the ground to wrap themselves around ankles. Yet still they kept on coming while Right Hand remained helpless and outnumbered. Despite all of her efforts, the Riders were losing. Still, Az tried to stand firm, though her conviction grew less and less with each Rider that fell. How could she remain so steadfast when her efforts continued to have no effect?

The next scene played out in terrifying crystal-clear slow motion. A gap in the action provided her with a glimpse of the other side of the clearing, where Jeb and Strongwind were holding their own. Jeb looked magnificent atop the leopard-spotted stallion. The two of them had grown so close, though Strongwind continued to needle Jeb in ways that were meant to "keep him humble," as he so wryly described it. Still, their partnership was an example to everyone in the Riders. Strongwind seemed to anticipate Jeb's every order before he gave it, wheeling around to deliver a well-timed kick or gallop over to dispatch another threat.

Jeb's cloak was torn and stained with blood, whipping around him with every movement. The hood had fallen back, and his hair glinted like spun gold in the light. He wielded twin pistols with cool and deadly accuracy, flinging them away when the chambers were empty. There was no time to reload: a pause on this battlefield meant the difference between life and death. Instead, Jeb reached down, scooped a rifle from some Longcoat's hands, and began firing while Strongwind created equal damage. Strongwind was a horse that thrived on the blood rage, lashing out with deadly results.

Az saw the Longcoat running straight for the pair, a club – Dunstan's? – clutched tightly in both hands. She opened her mouth to scream, but knew that she was too far to give a warning and too slow to prevent it.

It happened so quickly – one moment the stallion was up, and the next it was rearing back with a horrible roar, one of its front legs shattered. Red splotches peppered its glossy coat as it came back down, rolling and tumbling because of its injured leg. Jeb toppled from the stallion's back and was too slow to roll away.

His agonized scream bounced off the stone walls of the cliff as Strongwind came down hard on his legs. Strongwind tried to get up in an attempt to continue on and free its rider, but it proved too much. The loyal stallion no longer had any control, and its body shook with one massive shudder. That massive head sank to the frozen ground, its brown eyes closing one last time.

Az could almost hear how Jeb's scream of pain turned into one of anguish as he tried to move towards Strongwind's head. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he wrapped his arms around the stallion, weeping into its neck. He had truly loved Strongwind, despite their antagonistic relationship.

The commander of the Riders was so preoccupied with pain and loss that he did not notice the Longcoat approaching behind him. Az noted, with a dazed sense of dawning terror, that he was a former crony of Zero's. The Longcoat grinned, raising a pistol to point it at Jeb's unprotected back.

_BANG._

* * *

*dodges slings, arrows, and bazookas* Don't kill me! Just...trust me._  
_


	32. Winds of Fury

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: "Slayer Victory" - the long version, from the Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode "Chosen." Then "After the Fall," by Two Steps From Hell.

* * *

Az could not see a thing beyond the mist in her eyes nor hear anything beyond the roaring in her ears. She had no memory of crossing the clearing. She was simply _there_, tumbling from Freeheart's back and clumsily taking Jeb into her arms. "Jeb?" she whispered frantically, her hands going to the wound at his back and coming away smeared in crimson blood, stark against the snowy whiteness that surrounded them. "Jeb, please," she pleaded.

Jeb shivered slightly and opened his eyes. His eyes had turned a pale, silvery blue, as though all of the life had been drained from them. He moved his lips, desperately trying to speak. Instead, he choked and coughed, and a fine red mist formed on the front of Az's cloak.

"Shhh," she murmured, stroking a hand through his hair. "Don't speak, Jeb. I'm here now, it's going to be all right." She tried pouring her Light into his wound, to no avail. She had no knowledge of healing magic and didn't even know if her Light could be used in that way.

He reached up with trembling fingers to stroke his knuckles against her cheek. His eyes told her everything that he wanted to say and much more. His eyes spoke of his frustration and sorrow with this unexpected turn of events, regret and resignation overshadowing his outrage at the injustice of it all.

It was all she could do to fill the unbearable silence. "Don't you dare leave me, Jeb Cain." Words tumbled from her mouth as Az tried to keep the situation firmly in her control. "I won't let you. There's so much left for us to do. Do you know…you changed me? I was so fragile, so unsure of myself. You took a chance on me despite everything you felt and believed. It made me want to prove myself so much more. After we became friends, you never sought to hold me back. You trusted my strength and my ability."

She was rambling now, hoping that the flow of words would somehow keep him listening, keep him in the here and now. Jeb's gaze was focused on her now, steady and unwavering. It was as though he agreed with every word she said, his support steadying and pushing her like it always had. "Your respect and belief saved me, Jeb. I couldn't have gotten out of that cave in Finaqua without our friendship." She shook her head and laughed. It was thin and weak, but a laugh nonetheless. "But it's more than friendship, isn't it Jeb? I've denied it so long, listing every excuse I possibly could. It always came back to the thought that you could never want someone as broken as me, and I could never deserve someone like you."

His hand stilled on her cheek and he shook his head. The denial was fierce in his eyes. There was another emotion there, one that Az recognized but had never been able to identify or acknowledge until now. It spread through her, warming her to her very bones. "I know that they're stupid reasons, Jeb." She sighed and touched her forehead to his, ignoring the shudders the wracked his body. "But you see? You can't die. I am, and always shall be, yours. I love you, Jeb."

All of the tension left his body and his hand moved to cup her face. There was so much joy in his eyes that her heart stumbled and cracked. He struggled to make his lips form the words, using all of his remaining strength. "Love you," he mouthed. With a sigh, his eyelids slid closed. His hand fell from her face, dropping limply to his side.

The Light that had glowed around him wavered, and then winked out.

Time stopped.

Az rocked back in disbelief. "Jeb? _Jeb_!" Her head was reeling. This wasn't right. Jeb couldn't be dead. Jeb had to _live_. She refused to acknowledge a fate that would tear him so cruelly from her side. She could not, _would not _believe in a future that did not have him in it.

Despair threatened to overwhelm her. She wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball and cocoon herself away where nothing could ever hurt her again.

Except she _did _hurt. In a matter of moments, her hopes for the future had been crushed. The Riders, first Jeb's dream, had become hers. They were her means of repentance, her good work, and her way of giving back to the citizens of the Outer Zone. With roughly half of their fledging numbers gone, could they continue? If they were gone, what did she have left?

And Jeb…

There was so much that they could have had, so much that they could have been together. That brief, bright future that she had only dared to dream of had crumbled away into dust.

By killing Jeb, they had killed her heart as well.

Az turned her face up to the sky and let out a wordless cry, tinged with the hopelessness and rage of a dream ruthlessly deferred.

In that moment all of her shields and barriers shattered, and pure power came roaring out.

* * *

Miles away in Central City, DG skittered to a halt.

"DG, what are you doing?" Wyatt demanded. "We have to keep moving!"

Her brow furrowed, and there was real concern in her eyes. "I sense a disturbance in the Force," she muttered, tilting her head to hear a sound that was not there.

"_What?_ DG, this isn't the time for games!" As more bullets bounced off the shield, he wondered just how the assassins were taking the time to reload and where the hell they were getting that much ammunition.

"Do I look like I'm joking?" DG asked, but began to move again. "Something's really wrong, Wyatt. Something's happened to Az. We need to find somewhere to stop so that I can find out what happened."

It was as though the magical connection between them had gone white-hot. The initial burst of emotional feedback had prompted her stop: the fury and anguish that followed had almost been enough to knock her off her feet.

"Princess, we're running out of options," Wyatt warned. The assassins had done their homework. They knew the palace almost as well as he did. Once already they'd been followed into a secret passage they had no business knowing. He didn't dare risk going into another one.

"Come on, there has to be another secret passage or hidden room somewhere," she said, wincing as another blast of emotion rocketed through her. "I can't do much in this state anyway, it's too distracting."

"What do you mean?"

She sighed. "I can't really explain it, Wyatt, except that I have a really bad feeling about this." She had to find out what was happening to her sister – and fast.

Wyatt gritted his teeth, but acquiesced. "All right. I'll want a better explanation later, princess, but for now, follow me. I think I can find a place to dig in."

Elsewhere in the palace, Queen Lavender sagged against a wall, her face pale.

"Lavender?" Ahamo shouted over his shoulder, standing back-to-back with Glitch as they fought off attackers from all sides. "Are you all right?"

"Azkadellia," she gasped. "Something has happened to Azkadellia. Raw?" she managed.

"Feel it too," the Viewer said, shielding the queen with his body even though he'd gone equally ashy beneath his fur. "So much anger, hate, and sorrow. Must not submit," he whispered, almost to himself. "Lose self if she does."

Lavender shut her eyes and sent a prayer to Lurline to keep her daughter safe. "Please, don't let me lose her again," she begged.

"Let's move, let's move!" Glitch ordered, taking out an assassin with an almighty roundhouse kick to the head.

Lavender obeyed, though her heart was elsewhere.

* * *

The battlefield ground to a halt as the Light consumed everything. Every person in the clearing and its surroundings felt silent, immobile, held transfixed by the kneeling princess and the maelstrom of power pouring out of her. Her image would forever be fixed in their minds, her arms clasped tight around Jeb Cain's body as she screamed, magical fire licking around her body. The sheer pressure of her power made breathing difficult and movement impossible. It was as though time was standing still, and all they could do was watch and wait for the inevitable conclusion.

The magnitude of the power that Az wielded was astonishing. The power she'd woken with in the morning and demonstrated in the throne room was nothing compared to the strength that flooded her now. There was so much of it that it could not be contained within her body. Magic slid over her skin even as it pulsed beneath it, burning white-hot with its intensity. There was no end to it. It was like nothing she had ever known – except for the energy of the Emerald. This time, there was no witch and no fear. She was no mere conduit for this power, but its mistress.

Az could derive no joy from the knowledge and her newfound strength. Despite all of its abundance, it was useless to her now. She could now call up a travel storm large enough to transport the entire population of Shiz, but what good did that do? Why did she know how to shrink and transport objects with a snap of her fingers, but not know how to heal the smallest wound?

What about all of her noble vows and principles? What good had it served her to try and do the just and honorable thing by holding back and not killing any of the Longcoat army that had brought so much suffering to her and her own? She'd been too late, and members of Right Hand had still died.

She'd been unable to save Jeb. Jeb, the man that she _loved_. All she'd ever wanted was to walk by his side. Now, that was no longer a possibility.

Her shock and disbelief at his death had shifted almost instantly into crippling grief, but rage began to rise to the surface. The two emotions battled for supremacy.

Anger won.

Pure, hot fury flooded her veins, unlike anything she'd ever felt before. It was much easier to give in to the anger. That emotion lent her focus. It gave her a purpose. Never before had she felt so much hate. Even the witch, her nemesis, her bane, had never been the focus of such emotion. There was no logic to this: the witch had created more suffering for Az and the O.Z. than this ragged bunch ever did. Nevertheless, her enmity demanded a target.

Revenge. Oh, how she craved it. She wanted them all to pay, every single Longcoat and bandit that had taken up this godforsaken march. She wanted retribution for the precious blood that they had spilled. She held them responsible for Jeb's death, and nothing would satisfy her now but blood. Justice? Look at what it had cost her.

She would not make that mistake again.

The thought of crushing the Longcoats where they stood was surprisingly seductive. The task would be exceedingly simple. She could open a crack in the earth, swallowing them whole while she spirited what was left of the Riders away. At this point, the elemental act would be nothing more than child's play.

Elemental magic came easily now, thanks to the volatile nature of her emotions combined with the strength of her magic. Though it was the heart of winter, she could call up a firestorm that would incinerate everything in its path. She could create a storm of ice and snow ten times more deadly than the one that had thundered through the land only days before. It was also within her to call up the single most deadly tornado the Outer Zone had ever seen. It would spare nothing, tearing everything in its path to shreds and hurling it miles away. Az relished the thought.

The magic begged to be set free. It pulsed beneath her skin and lashed about in the air as though it was just searching for a means of escape. Well, she would certainly oblige.

The sky darkened to a murky, sickly greenish-gray as storm clouds began to gather overhead. The pressure in the clearing grew even greater than before, squeezing the air out of the lungs of the rebellious army. Wind came howling from all directions, strong and cold and dry, chilling everything in its path. Thunder boomed ominously from the distance and lightning sparked from the sky in response.

At the center of all of this was Az. She rose to her feet, her eyes glowing an eerie yellow as the winds whistled around her. They tore at her clothes until her mottled cloak swirled around her and pulled her hair free from her braid, midnight strands whipping in every direction. She looked like a true witch, terrifying in her vengeance.

Longcoat and bandit alike panicked and began to run. Death at this moment was no longer a possibility, but a certainty. They attempted to flee, only to find that Az was not going to let them go so easily. Movement was hindered and in many places, men found themselves knee-deep and flailing in cold, unforgiving mud.

There was no escape.

Lightning struck several trees around the clearing, settling them ablaze. The tone of the circling wind slid upwards to an ear-piercing shriek as it met the thunderclouds, setting off the makings of a tornado. Swirling black clouds began to reach lower and lower with deadly intent. Az raised her arms to welcome the storm, reveling in its glory. She was dead to the pleas for mercy and desperate screams that filled the air. Even if she heard them, she was beyond sympathy.

She did, however, feel the slightest brush of magic coming from the connections she had with her mother and DG. They held nothing more than inquisition and worry.

Az's reaction was immediate and violent. She sent out a sharp, painful burst of power as a warning before slamming down all of her shields, physical and mental, cutting herself off from the outside world. She could not afford to be distracted. She couldn't be reminded that there was good out there, that there were still those who loved and cared for her. She had given them up, along with any chance she had for happiness and redemption. It was all meaningless without Jeb.

There could be no room for anything but her pain and her retribution.

* * *

DG gasped as Az's warning shot rocketed through her, her eyes watering at the unexpected and sudden sting. She stumbled, and Wyatt instantly stopped shooting and wrapped an arm around her waist.

"DG, are you all right?"

"God_damnit_," she hissed, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. "Wyatt, you'd better find me that place and find it fast."

Wyatt Cain took one look at her face and knew that he had to obey. He didn't like the expression of pain and worry in her face, tinged with just the slightest bit of panic. No, he didn't like it one bit. "We're almost there. Wanna tell me what's going on?"

The younger princess chewed on her lower lip as she tried to process what little information she'd been able to get from her probe. Her sister's strength had multiplied to a shocking degree since she'd seen her last. However, that magic seemed to out of control, buoyed by Az's more than alarming emotional state. "Az is doing something big," she said finally. "But I don't think any of us are going to like it unless she gets a hold of herself." It was the most horrible understatement, but she didn't want Wyatt to think badly of Az without knowing what was going on. Something terrible had to have happened out there to make her normally level-headed older sister fly off the handle.

"Right." He gave her a measured look but didn't press. "Come on, this way." They all but flew up a small, narrow flight of stairs that she'd never seen before.

DG took a moment to puzzle over Az's cheap shot. She couldn't help but feel a little angry and hurt that she'd done that. They _never _closed each other out. She adored her older sister, but she wasn't about to let her get away with it. Az might have the shielding technique and the power, but DG was tenacious. She had to get to the bottom of this…

Her thoughts came to a screeching halt. What if something had happened to Jeb? She could think of no other course of action that would spur Az into such a frenzy, unless she knew of what was going on at the palace. Because Az was stationary and not spinning a travel storm towards Central City, she realized that the problem had to come from Jeb. She was glad that she'd been vague with Wyatt. She didn't want him worrying about his son's fate when there were so many other things to think about.

"Are we there yet?" DG was starting to run out of breath. The words had no sooner left her mouth before they came upon a small landing and a door. Unlike most of the doors in the Central Palace, this door was carved out of stone.

"DG, focus that shield behind us right now," Wyatt ordered. He held his massive ring of keys and was already fitting one into the lock. The door opened with nary a groan or scrape. The former tin man pushed DG over the threshold just as the assassins caught up. DG reinforced the shield as Wyatt came through and slammed the door shut, locking it from the inside.

"Can you put a shield around this room while you do…whatever you're going to do?" he asked.

"Already did," she replied. The room was just begging to be explored, but she ignored the compulsion and sat on the floor. "Yell at me if something happens," she said absently. She fell into a trance before he had a chance to respond.

* * *

The tornado was beginning to pick up speed as it descended. She could have helped its downward progress, but she wanted to extend the rebel army's terror and anticipation as much as possible. She wanted every moment to be drawn out. She wanted them to watch, wait, and all but beg for death before it finally came upon them.

Still, it was a far quicker death than they deserved. If only she were able to make them live through a fraction of the hell that she was experiencing. It was a shame that she'd never quite known how the witch extracted souls and absorbed them into her own. She'd never been able to bear those moments, fleeing into the very depths of her mind whenever the witch saw fit to use that form of capital punishment. It was the most agonizing of deaths, for the victim was cognizant of every excruciating sensation. The victim of a soul extraction felt every inch of his soul being torn away before he finally disappeared into oblivion.

A mass soul extraction. She rolled the idea around in her head, finding it more and more appealing with each moment. It would be a most fitting end, so much more satisfactory than that damnable tornado-

DG blasted through her mental shield, shattering it into pieces. _What the HELL, Az? _The younger sister demanded, her presence fluttering around the edges of Az's consciousness like an angry butterfly. _You _do not _close me out, understand?_

_Stay out of this, DG_. Despite her righteous indignation, DG couldn't help but shrink back from the strength and fury of her sister's mind-voice. It had taken almost everything she had to break through Az's shield. If they came to magical blows, there was no doubt who would emerge as the victor.

Well, all she needed to do was talk her down and get to the bottom of this. She'd done it once before, and there had been much more at stake then. At least, that was what she was trying to tell herself. _I won't. You know me better than that, Az. What's going on? Why are you hurting so much? _DG tried her best to make sense of the emotions pulsing down their magical connection. There was so much anger there, so much hate, but beneath it all…she just had to dig a little deeper.

_DG. Go, or I will make you go_.

_Then make me_, DG challenged, just as stubborn as ever. _You're my sister, Az. I made a promise. I'll always be there for you-_

_But you _weren't! Back at the palace, DG was vaguely aware that the force of Az's reply, both verbal and magical in nature, had slammed her body against the stone wall behind her. She couldn't respond to Wyatt's frantic shout. Everything was focused on Az. No one_ was there! No one was here when Jeb _died _in my arms!_

The news sent DG reeling. Jeb was dead? That wasn't possible. Yet, as she probed her sister's feelings, she finally recognized the underlying emotion. It was the most heart-rending grief, grief unlike anything DG had ever felt before. _But…but the Light_, she stammered, feeling utterly and completely helpless. Az had just watched the man she loved _die_. No wonder she'd gone absolutely crazy.

_Useless. Except for revenge._

Except for…DG did some more probing, now that Az was no longer thinking to shield herself. What she discovered made her blood run cold. _Az, no. Stop it right now._

_Why should I? _The storm raged overhead, stronger than ever. _I want them to pay. _She wanted them to feel the same hopelessness and despair that they'd forced upon her. Only then would she be satisfied.

_Az, my sister, listen to me, _DG pleaded. She wracked her mind, knowing that she didn't have the strength to physically restrain her sister. Az wasn't thinking, too caught up in the shock of Jeb's death to react with anything but grief and anger. _Revenge won't solve anything. You can't give into the darkness, not when you've overcome so much._

_I don't care! None of it means anything without him!_

_Okay, I'm just going to ignore that last part. What am I, chopped liver? _DG pushed down her hurt, knowing that it wouldn't serve her well right now. If she wanted to get through to Az, she had to use Jeb._ Az, what would Jeb say if he knew what you were doing right now? What would he say if he knew that you were about to kill hundreds of helpless men who don't know any better?_

For the first time, Az faltered. _He…he wanted them gone as much as anyone! The Riders are supposed to eliminate the Longcoat threat!_

_Not that way, Az! Think! Jeb would have wanted _justice_…just like you. This isn't justice. This is murder._

Murder.

The word echoed over and over in Az's head. Slowly, the red mist of her own blood rage lifted from her vision, and the reality of the situation and her actions washed over her like a torrent of ice water.

_What was she doing? _Had she been pushed so far that she'd all but thrown away all of her principles and beliefs? For her to contemplate and almost commit _murder_ on such a large scale was unthinkable. Az immediately let go of her magical workings. The tornado collapsed on itself, dissipating into the wind. The storm clouds rolled away, leaving behind a pitiless winter sky, and the fires that raged in the trees dwindled away with nary a thought.

Had she truly thought to resurrect the witch's most heinous crime? If she had been able to figure it out and perform the deed, her soul would have never recovered from such a sin. She would have become damned, and rightly so. Her Light would have abandoned her just as she would have abandoned it by treading down that dark path. Redemption would have forever been beyond her grasp.

She had never felt so ashamed in her life. She knew better. Nothing justified what she'd been prepared to do, not even revenge. She would have lost everything she'd learned and everything she'd gained from her experiences in the cave, with the Vedu, the Riders…and especially Jeb. All of those lessons would have been in vain.

Nothing, not even the death of the Longcoats, not even strength of her fury and power, could alleviate the pain of losing Jeb. Only justice and time would do that.

Az sank back to her knees, weeping softly as she gathered Jeb's body back into her arms, gently moving him from beneath Strongwind's body. "Forgive me, my love," she whispered into his hair. "You never would have forgiven me for doing such a thing in your name, I know that now."

_I'm a terrible person, DG._

_No you're not, Az. You weren't thinking._

_That doesn't excuse my actions._

DG couldn't say anything to that.

_Please leave me, Deeg. I…need to be alone in my head right now. Don't worry, I won't do anything crazy. I promise._

DG did _not _want to leave. Az could feel that. But in the end, she acquiesced. _All right, Az. You know where to find me._ Her presence withdrew, leaving Az alone.

Was it possible to suffocate under the weight of one's own guilt? She had always been proud of her integrity and her level head. But how could she face anyone – how could she face _herself_ – when she'd been unable to look beyond her hate and prejudice and just focus on justice? How could she ever trust herself to do the right thing?

Az closed her eyes and rocked back and forth. The air grew heavier around her, just like it had during the storm, until her own breath came in gasps because of the pressure. Az wondered briefly if Lurline had judged her and found her guilty for her actions. If so, she would gladly submit to her punishment. Her actions were unforgiveable.

But nothing happened. The ground had not opened to swallow her whole. Lightning had not come arcing out of the sky to roast her where she knelt.

It was then that she realized that unlike the tornado, her power had not dispersed. The majority of it had remained untapped. The sense of _needing to be used _was there as well, hammering away inside her head like the worst kind of headache.

What could she do? She could call up a travel storm big enough to bring the whole lot to Shiz so that they could be dealt with. She wanted nothing more than to wash her hands of the rebel army – let the governor of Shiz and Second do what they want. The Longcoats and bandits were in no shape to fight anyone now. They were scared witless and were still unable to move, thanks to the boggy ground around them.

There was nothing left to do but gather the surviving members of Right Hand and rendezvous with Bane. Together, they had the sad task of burying their dead, Riders and mounts alike. All of these tasks required perhaps half of the power she had on hand.

The Light fluttered almost impatiently and leapt from her to Jeb, suffusing him with a soft, golden glow. It was as though it was telling her to use it on him. Az scoffed quietly. She'd tried to heal him, tried to keep him from slipping away, but the knowledge of using it for healing eluded her. She couldn't bring him back from the dead-

Except she _could_. Az's eyes flew open. Wasn't that exactly what Mother had done after the witch had murdered DG? It was the very opposite of the soul extraction in nature and execution. A wielder of the Light could use the power of their very soul to reforge the bond between the soul and body of another while their power reanimated the body. It was, after all, the essence of Lurline's gift and Ozma's legacy of life. Lurline had given up a great deal of her magic to raise the O.Z. out of the barren wastes of the ancient Nonestican Desert, and Ozma had tied her Light and her life to the land so that it would be preserved.

The price of life was high, and her mother had surely paid for it by depleting her Light. Az would gladly pay that price, even without the power that was now at her disposal.

"Life is Light, and Light is Life," Az whispered, desperately trying to believe every word. This would work. It had to. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, all the while guiding the Light into Jeb. The essence of her soul came along with it, for it would provide the platform, the means by which his soul could reattach itself to his body.

The Light's response was instantaneous. A trickle became a torrent, forcibly leaping from her body to his. Az could only watch with wonder as it did what she could not, healing his shattered limbs. She felt for his back and found a round scar, the only memento of the bullet that had taken his life. She held her breath until her lungs ached, holding Jeb close and waiting as the Light poured into him.

Slowly, ever so slowly, his heart began to beat.

* * *

**Please review!**

Err...do you guys still want to kill me? Yes, he did die, but...well. This was a very difficult chapter to write, so a big shout-out goes to MatsuMama for really pushing me through to the end, even when it was killing me.

I apologize for the long wait, but my masters dissertation is due _in a week_. Cue panic mode. Just thought I'd get this out there before I bury myself under a rock to get that monstrosity (which is not nearly as fun to write as this) edited and ready to turn in. I can promise you guys that once it's finished, this should be wrapped up pretty quickly because I'll have the rest of September to recover before I start my Ph.D. in October. Ack. Thanks for your patience, I truly appreciate it!


	33. Winds of Fate

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: "Fill My Heart" by Two Steps From Hell, and then "I Don't Think Now Is The Right Time" from PotC: At World's End.

* * *

Slowly, ever so slowly, his heart began to beat. It started off so faintly that she had to strain to feel it, increasing in strength until it was steady and solid beneath her hand. His skin flushed and warmed, and with one gasp, air rushed back into lungs that were suddenly working once more.

Those precious eyes slid open, hazy and unfocused as he looked up at her. "Az?" Jeb inquired hoarsely. "This can't be heaven."

Az choked back a laugh and a sob. She ran her fingers over his face, needing to assure herself that he was here, alive and healthy. "Hardly."

He frowned. "I'm confused. I thought I…" Images and sensations came back to him in vivid flashes. Determination, resignation, anguish, and pain unlike anything he'd ever felt.

Despite the triumph and utter relief she felt now, the pain of his death remained. It was something she would most likely never forget. "You did, Jeb. I lost you."

Jeb felt himself go cold. There was a great deal behind those words, and it was written on every inch of her face. Her eyes were rimmed with red and there was still evidence of tear trails on her cheeks. She looked haggard, haunted, and exhausted, as though she'd been to hell and back. He could only imagine the horrors she'd gone through. If the situation had been reversed, he would have gone mad. "But how?" he managed.

"Light," was the simple reply.

"Az," he murmured, dismayed. He was one of the few people privy to the true circumstances of DG's resurrection. He knew exactly what sort of price was demanded. "That's too much…"

"It was mine to give," Az said stubbornly. Her hand drifted down to cover his heart once more. "And it was freely given."

Everything inside of him lit up with painful hope. If she had truly risked everything to bring him back, then it would confirm the truth in those last hazy memories. "I wasn't imagining things at the very end, was I?" he asked quietly, remembering the utter peace that had come after the pain, peace that had come not from death, but from joy. "What you said…"

Az's fingers froze in the act of brushing back his hair. It had been easy to admit her feelings when he was on the brink of death. There were no consequences for such a confession. Even if he hadn't responded in the same way, she wouldn't have cared. All that had mattered was that he knew how she felt. Now that he was alive once more, there was no going back. She would have to face the consequences of revealing her feelings.

Still, she could try to believe that everything DG and Raw had told her was the truth. She could hope that his last words to her had not been mere parroting, but the truth. It was time to be brave and trust the feelings that had been building up inside of her. "You weren't imagining things, Jeb," she said honestly. "I'm yours." A small laugh bubbled out of her as the burden of her feelings released itself. "Heart and soul, I'm yours."

A smile broke across his face, brighter than the sunrise. "You have no idea how long I've waited to hear that," he confessed. He reached up, threading his fingers through her hair, and brought her down until her mouth met his.

After that, it was all sweetness and light, and never before had Az felt anything like it. Its power eclipsed her own until she knew nothing but the deepest warmth and the certainty that she was complete. She wasn't alone and never would be. Dreams drifted in her head, dazzling with their myriad possibilities. How could anything be so wonderful, so perfect? The beauty of it was the most precious of gifts.

Time no longer mattered, and it was only when they moved apart that the world seemed to move again.

Jeb still held her face in his hands, stunned and overwhelmed. _This _was what it was to love completely. He had given her everything he had and expected nothing in return, only to have it given back a hundred times over. This was what his parents had shared, and now that he knew what it was like, he would hold onto it with all of his strength.

Az pressed her forehead to his, unwilling to break away. She wanted to savor this moment, to tuck it away with all of the precious memories she'd hidden away for reliving in the quietness of her heart. "You have to say it back, you know," she whispered.

"Shall I?" He stared at her as though he was committing her every feature to memory. How could he put his feelings into words? "Az…it took a long time for me to see past everything and truly see you. But seeing you was knowing you, and once I knew you…how could I not love you?" He used his thumbs to wipe the tears that spilled from her eyes. "Was it that clumsy?"

She shook her head, completely overcome. "Not clumsy at all. Perfect."

Jeb raised an eyebrow and grinned. "Perfect? I can get used to that." He brushed his lips against hers teasingly, eliciting a faint gasp from Az. She melted against him, more than willing to lose herself in his embrace.

That perfect moment was shattered when a shout echoed from the edge of the clearing.

"Horsemistress? Are you there?"

Az's head shot up and Jeb struggled to sit up. That was Jem's voice. When had Bane arrived? Her eyes widened as she remembered that time had not stopped, even though it felt that way to her. She'd been so focused on bringing Jeb back to life that she'd lost sight of everything else. "I'm here, Lieutenant!" she answered.

"Wonderful!" That sharp bark could only belong to Micah. "Do you mind turning off the light show, Horsemistress?"

Az blinked and realized that her remaining Light had escaped her hold, flooding the entire clearing. She pulled it back beneath her skin where it belonged, bringing everything into full view.

"_Jeb?_" Jem shouted incredulously, catching sight of his friend and commander as Az helped him sit up. The lieutenant dismounted from his place on Sandstrider's back and sprinted to his side.

Jeb chuckled uncomfortably as Jem peered into his face. "Ah, Jem? What-"

"The bandits we ran into said that you were _dead_," was the hoarse reply. "I don't understand," he said, turning to Az, his eyes full of questions.

Az swallowed. How was she going to explain this? "They weren't wrong, Lieutenant. Jeb died." Nothing but his death could have explained her magnitude of her reaction and she couldn't explain it away, not when there were hundreds of witnesses.

Jem was flabbergasted. He looked between Az and Jeb, trying to find the answer. "But _how_?"

Az caught the underlying worry in his tone. "There was no black magic involved, Lieutenant," she reassured him. "Do you remember Lurline's Gift?"

The lieutenant's brow furrowed. "Every schoolboy knows the story of Lurline's Gift," he began, before the pieces fell into place. "Oh."

"Oh indeed." Micah came up behind him warily. "Commander, I'm glad you're…" She trailed off. "Well," she finished lamely, knowing that she couldn't adequately express her relief that the bandits had been wrong. "But I would like to know why the bandits and Longcoats are begging for mercy and babbling about storms and the Horsemistress."

All eyes turned to Az. She turned dull red, knowing that none of them knew what had transpired after Jeb's death. "I…may have lost my temper," she admitted.

"_May _have?" Micah stared at her. The men stuck in the forest were scared _witless_.

Jem spoke up. "Horsemistress, these men are convinced that they are going to die by your hand. We rode in expecting to be overwhelmed-"

"Overwhelmed by hundreds of men that are tripping over themselves to surrender, and we're only fifteen!" Micah interrupted. She shrugged when Jem sent her an exasperated look.

Jeb turned to Az, his expression inquiring. She shook her head. "I will explain everything to you later, but let me say for now that I was not thinking rationally after you died, Jeb."

He nodded, knowing better than to press her when she had that look in her eyes. "All right. We have time." He got to his feet with Jem and Az supporting him on either side. His legs felt wobbly, but were otherwise fine. "If they want to surrender, we can certainly oblige them. Micah, I trust that you and the rest of Bane can get them organized."

The redhead nodded. "Of course. Most of them are trapped in the mud anyway."

Az sighed. "You'll need my help, then."

"Best you stay here, Horsemistress," Micah said briskly. "They're all fighting to get away from you." A hint of amusement crept into her voice. "It would be a shame if any of them ran off before we got them a fair trial."

"Then take the rest of Bane and get it done," Jeb ordered. Micah nodded and turned to go. "Wait," he said, looking around the clearing. "When you've gathered them, bring them here. They have a job to do." He wasn't going to leave the forest in this condition.

"Az, Jem and I will probably need your help." His eyes darkened with grief as he looked down at Strongwind's body. He hadn't forgotten what else had transpired before his death. "We need to tend to our wounded and gather our dead."

* * *

DG opened her eyes and found herself looking straight into Wyatt's. She yelped and jerked backwards. "Whoa! You're a little close there, Wy-eeek!"

She was cut off as he crushed against his chest. "DG, don't you _ever _do that to me again, all right?" The former Tin Man's voice was rough as he talked into her hair. "You scared twenty annuals out of me. What the hell happened with you and your sister?"

The younger princess blanched. "Oh…" She remembered Az's heartbreaking revelation about Jeb's death, and how the force of it had resonated through her, magically and physically. "No wonder my head hurts," she muttered. "Did I hit the wall?"

"You _flew _into the wall," Wyatt corrected her. That image was still in his mind's eye, how her body had simply jerked back and slammed into the unforgiving stone. He hadn't even had time to move before she'd crumpled to the ground. "You could've broken your neck!"

Not that long ago, DG would have snapped at him for using that kind of tone. She fancied that she was getting better at reading him. He really hated having to stand aside and watch. In that way, they were the same. "But I didn't," she said patiently, pulling away to look at him. "I'm still in one piece, see? Az wouldn't hurt me."

He scowled. "But she _did, _whether she meant it or not. What's happening out there, DG?"

She blanched. _Jeb_. How could she tell Wyatt that his son was dead? She'd already seen what losing Adora had done to him, but Jeb? They'd had so little time to build their relationship back and now he was gone. She couldn't do it. "Not now, Wyatt, all right? It's not the right time." She nodded towards the door. "What say we take care of this little pickle we're in and then I'll tell you what's going on."

Wyatt's gaze clouded over and he took a breath, ready to argue. "Princess-"

DG's hand fisted in the front of his uniform, her nails sinking into the green wool. "Wyatt, please," she pleaded. "Just give me time, all right?" She didn't think she could handle telling him now, not when she hadn't had time to fully process Jeb's death. Not when there were assassins on their doorstep.

If it were any other time, Wyatt would have pressed. However, she looked so miserable, striking that vulnerable spot within him that absolutely _hated _seeing her like that, that he had to accept her plea. "All right," he sighed. "You win. But we'd better think of something quick, because _that-_" he nodded at the door. "Isn't going to hold for much longer. They've started shooting at the door. What happened to your shield?"

DG turned to look at the door. Sure enough, she could hear the peppery _ping _of bullets wearing away at the stone. "Seriously, where are they getting the ammunition for this?" She rubbed her eyes. "It took almost everything I had to get through Az's shield. I couldn't break through hers and keep this one up."

"What _can_ you do, DG? Because unless we want to fight our way out, the only way out is up." He jerked his head towards a smaller door in the corner of the room.

DG followed his gaze and muffled a groan. "Aw, nuts," she muttered. "How could I have missed this?" The room they were in was the room at the base of the Observatory, the highest tower in Central Palace and the entire city. The uppermost room was completely walled in with magically enhanced glass that was impervious to breakage, making it perfect for stargazing and weather watching. Glitch was up there all the time, gathering data for scientific experiments.

The room also had a magical element in the form of a large crystal ball mounted on a pedestal. Az often used it for long-distance scrying and focusing. If one had to defend the city with magical means, the Observatory was the best place to do it.

"Do you have a better idea? At least the door up there is stronger than the one down here."

"There's natural shielding up there, too," DG said, resigned. "Did it have to be the Observatory?" Ever since the witch had tried to blow her off the tower during the Double Eclipse, she'd developed a slight phobia for heights. Enclosed towers were fine, but the glass walls and ceiling of the Observatory were particularly unnerving. The increasing volume of the bullets answered her question. "Never mind. Let's go."

* * *

Jeb watched the scene before him and found it to be terribly bittersweet. Half of the surrendering army was piling their dead into one large pile on the south end of the clearing, which would be their funeral pyre. The other half were digging graves for the fallen Riders and their mounts into the ground at the north end of the clearing below the cliff.

Ten Riders from Right Hand had been killed in the skirmish. Jeb's jaw clenched as their names echoed in his mind. Dunstan, Vera, Martel, Ayers, Kris, Benjy, Wren, Arvin, Jonas, Niels, and their Cloudrunners. To that count, Jeb added Strongwind. He still couldn't believe that they were gone. In the months since training began, they'd slowly become part of his family. They were his people, his responsibility.

Jeb blinked back the angry tears that gathered at the corners of his eyes. Like it or not, Riders were soldiers. They knew that they could be called upon to give their lives for the O.Z. They'd all known what they were signing up for, and they'd done it gladly. He couldn't undermine their deaths because of his own guilt. He had to learn, as every commander did, to mourn their loss and appreciate their sacrifice. It would never be easy, and he prayed it never would because it would mean that he was dead inside, numb to the feelings that made him human.

He turned back to where Jem was tending to the only two survivors of the carnage. In his last moments, Dunstan had managed to save Lotti. The young girl had somehow retreated into the forest in the following chaos. Harry had been presumed dead, but the young man had only been knocked out. They owed a great deal to their mounts. Harry's stallion had stood guard over his body while Lotti's mare had borne her rider away as quickly as possible.

Jeb was relieved that he'd sent Bo and Sula to tell the Royal Army of their plans. At the time, all he'd thought of was their speed. He was grateful for that decision. In doing so, he'd guaranteed their safety. Bo would be Right Hand's second now, and with their help he knew that Right Hand could get back on its feet.

The two figures in the center of the clearing caught his eye. Az watched the rebel army's proceedings with stony eyes and a set countenance. Freeheart stood behind his mistress, his posture protective and menacing at the same time. All of the men gave the pair wide berths, and most couldn't bear to even look in Az's direction. Her mere presence ensured that they were doing the jobs set before them. Jeb was sure that even if all of Royal Army had been there to guard the prisoners, they wouldn't have been needed.

What had transpired after his death? What had Az done to make them so fearful? Judging by the scene before him, he wasn't entirely sure he'd like the answer.

"Ho, Riders!" Bo and Sula came galloping into the clearing atop Starlight and Desertflower. The two Cloudrunners looked absolutely exhausted, their sides glistening with foam. Bo and Sula looked uncharacteristically somber. Their expressions only tightened further as they took in the scene before them, but they came riding up to Jeb with grim purpose.

"Commander, we came as fast as we could," Sula said.

Jeb was puzzled. "How could you have heard about the ambush?" He felt Az come up beside him.

Bo shook his head, his eyes straying to the north side of the clearing as he dismounted. "We heard nothing about an ambush." He swallowed and pushed on, though he clearly wanted to ask. "We were delivering our message to Second when a carrier pigeon arrived from Central." He glanced at Sula, who handed a slip of paper to Jeb.

"Lockdown in Central Palace. Assassins. Royal Family in danger. Come back immediately," he read out loud.

Az turned deathly white. "_What?_" she cried. She reached for her connection to DG. _DG! DG, are you there? Answer me!_

* * *

DG stood in the center of the Observatory, leaning against the crystal ball and panting from the exertion of climbing the seemingly endless flights of stairs. She was also trying to stay as far away from the glass walls as possible. Her stomach was already hovering somewhere in the vicinity of her ankles. "We really need to get an elevator installed here," she joked, trying to pass off her mild fear.

Wyatt wasn't buying it. He just rolled his eyes and double-checked that the door was locked. "What we need is furniture to bar the door," he replied. The few spindly chairs that were scattered around the room were not enough to provide a decent blockade.

_DG! DG, ARE YOU THERE? ANSWER ME!_

Az's magical shriek was deafening. DG clapped her hands to her ears, even though the shout resonated in her mind, not her ears.

_For the love of…Az, please don't shriek. It would suck if I went deaf in my own mind._

_DG! _Hundreds of miles away in the clearing, Az sagged with relief. _You're alive!_

_For now, anyway. _DG waved Wyatt off. "It's all good, it's just Az," she assured him. She turned her attention back to her sister. _Are…are you all right now, Az?_

_I'm fine, DG. More than fine. But let's not talk about this right now. What is this to-do about assassins?_

_How do _you_ know about the assassins? _"Az knows about the assassins," she mouthed to Wyatt, whose eyebrows went up with shock.

_Someone from the Gale Force must have sent off a carrier pigeon. Second knows, and they told Bo and Sula, who came to tell us. DG, are Mother and Daddy-?_

_I don't know. I'm sure we would have felt something if anything had happened…_

There was a pause. _Yes, that's true. Now tell me everything you know._

_Az, there isn't a lot of time, but… _DG told her the condensed version of the story, from where the assassins had first surprised her to Wyatt's conclusions about the trap. When she got to that particular observation, Az's sudden flash of fury made her stop in her tracks. Strong emotions from Az were _uncomfortable _when experienced through a magical connection. It was prickly, like there was a cactus growing in her brain.

_Az, please don't do that_, DG pleaded. _I'm in the Observatory and-_

_The Observatory? Deeg, you've cut off any chance of escape!_

_It just kind of happened! _She felt her sister's simmering rage. _Az, please don't turn into the Hulk again. I don't think-_

_Does it feel like I'm losing control?_

DG probed their link cautiously. No, this was nothing like the boiling cauldron of emotions that had overwhelmed her only minutes ago. In fact, Az was deathly calm. How had that happened? She sincerely hoped that Az hadn't gone ahead and killed the rebels anyway. _Actually, I think this is scarier. Please don't do anything-_

_Dig in for as long as you can, Deeg. We're coming. _Az let the connection fizzle out.

_-Stupid_. DG opened her eyes and looked at Wyatt. "Um, I think the cavalry's coming."

Az came out of her trance with her mind already whirring with plans. "Round up Bane," she said to Jeb. "We're going to Central City." She repeated what DG had told her.

"Horsemistress, I completely support your decision, but we can't just leave these men here." Jem glanced at the rebel army. "You're the only reason why they're so cooperative right now. If we all leave, they're going to disappear into the forest."

Amethyst eyes narrowed as Az looked up. "That will not be a problem, Lieutenant." All of the rebel army dropped to the ground, sound asleep. No one had heard her cast a single spell or make a single gesture.

Before anyone could react, she fired off a speaking spell. "Colonel Orin, this is Princess Azkadellia," she said briskly. "Have you turned back towards the city?"

"Yes, Your Highness." Colonel Ramsay Orin was Grand Duchess Aleydis Orin's second oldest son and the commander of Second Company. "General Trevelyan has-"

"I'm changing your orders, Colonel. We have incapacitated the rebel army in a clearing only a few miles from Red Sand. I want you to come and take these men into custody before you return."

"Your Highness, with all due respect-"

Az's voice was as crisp and cutting as a newly made sheet of paper. "Colonel, do not force me to pull rank. I can assure you that the remaining Riders and I will arrive in the city much quicker than Second." Then, she thought determinedly, she would deal with those _bastards _that dared to try and lay a hand on her family. "Am I understood?"

The colonel's voice was audibly subdued. "Yes ma'am, I mean, Your Highness. We will do as you say."

"Good." Az released the spell and turned around to find the remaining Riders gaping at her. Jeb was fighting down a smile and was losing. She raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

No one spoke. Finally, Windy piped up from the back. "Princess DG was right. You're _scarily _efficient, Horsemistress." He turned to Anka. "And _don't _make her angry," he said in an undertone. Anka giggled.

That was enough to break the tension in the atmosphere. "Indeed," she murmured. General Trevelyan would be proud. She turned and vaulted onto Freeheart's back.

"Riders, form up!" Jeb commanded. "We're going back to Central." He instinctively turned to whistle for Strongwind before he remembered that his stallion would no longer reply. For one moment, he felt utterly and totally lost. He was a Rider – but he no longer had a horse.

A hand appeared in his line of vision. "Come, Jeb," Az said softly.

Jeb looked into her eyes, finding them full of pain and understanding. He took her hand without question and leaped lightly into place behind her, anchoring his arms around her waist. Despite himself, he grinned. "You know, if this were any other situation I would be enjoying this far too much," he whispered into her ear.

Her cheeks flamed red. "Jeb, this certainly is not the time." But her eyes were sparkling as she turned to look at him. "But I agree."

"Ahem." Micah rolled her eyes. "As happy as we are to finally get results for the betting pool, I believe we have a mission."

Sula shook her head. "Did you have to tell them about the pool?"

"Pool?" Jeb echoed, turning a death glare on his riders.

Az shook her head, already spinning the threads of the travel storm in her mind. "Micah has a point. Let's go!"

A tornado burst from the sky, sweeping the Riders up and away towards Central City.

* * *

General Trevelyan mopped the sweat from his brow and scowled at the soldiers manning the heavy artillery. "We're not here to rest on our laurels, gentlemen!" he bellowed. "I want those damn gates open yesterday!"

"Sir, we're trying everything we have," protested one of his captains. "Nothing can get past that shield."

"Damn magic," General Trevelyan said to himself. "Bites us in the ass as often as it lends a hand." The walls and gates of Central Palace had been specially shielded to withstand physical and magical assaults. With the gates barred from within, one single hasty shot had triggered the defenses. The general had almost taken off the head of the poor sergeant responsible. The shields prevented any sort of manual scaling the walls, making them as slippery as ice. Now they could only hope that continuous bombardment would weaken the shield enough for them to storm inside and save the Queen and her family. He wasn't going to hold his breath. There were legends about that shield.

"Have any of the Tin Men reported back?" he barked at another one of his officers.

The major shook his head. "Sir, it's possible that the shielding extends into the sewers below…"

"Damn it, does _anyone _have any good news to tell me?" He had not survived fifteen annuals of the witch's rule only to have most of the royal family wiped out on his watch.

"General Trevelyan!" An automobile screeched to a halt beside the cannons. "Sir, there's a travel storm coming straight for the city."

The general straightened. "Thank Lurline, that's definitely good news." He raised an eyebrow at the police officer that had brought the message. "Well, what are you waiting for?" he demanded. "Open the city gates, unless you want a travel storm in the city. I'd like to see you explain _that _to the city commissioner."

The Tin Man blanched. "Yes sir, right away sir!"

General Trevelyan turned back to his artillery men. "Keep it up, gentlemen!" he roared. "Every little bit helps!"

A sudden roar of wind swept through the streets of Central City, knocking many of the soldiers off their feet. "Guess they didn't get the gates open in time," the general sighed, bracing himself against a cannon.

With a swirl of wind and a flash of lightning, Azkadellia and Bane materialized beside the general's command station. Az's expression darkened as she stared up at the palace. "Who set off the shield?" she demanded.

"Don't worry, they'll be scrubbing the mess hall floors with rags for the next five annuals," General Trevelyan replied with grim good humor. "Can you take care of it, Your Highness?"

Az blew out a breath. She hadn't anticipated the shield. She didn't even know if she _could _take it down from the outside. As soon as the thought entered her mind, she dismissed it. Her family was in danger. Nothing else mattered. "Give me a minute."

She concentrated on the shield, knowing that she wasn't going to like what she found. The protective shield was rooted into the very foundation of Central Palace and was one of the strongest works of magic in the city. The palace foundations dated back to the time of the Ancients. Their power had sunk into the very stones, making them responsive to magical workings and magical protections in particular. This was no spell whose bonds were easily snapped, and its strength grew with each passing year. Every queen of the O.Z. added her own measure of protection to the spell, strengthening the shield so that it could perform its job in times of need.

She dove deep down to the glowing well of magic at the heart of the palace that fed the spell and got to work. There were no magical tendrils that could be uprooted, no ephemeral links that she could shatter. This spell was about as perfect as a man-made spell could be and was certainly one of the crowning glories of Ancient magical theory.

But what if she went inside the power core? Would that effectively put her inside the spell? Was it even possible? The core was thousands of years old, who knew what kind of effect it would have on her? There was a chance that she could be completely subsumed by the raw power contained there.

Az thought of DG. Mother and Father. Glitch. Raw. Wyatt. Suddenly, the decision wasn't so difficult. She gathered her courage and plunged into the light.

The moment she did so, her mind was seized in an iron grip. Her every thought, her every memory, and the very core of her being was examined and discarded in an instant.

**Intruder?**

What was _that? _The power core couldn't possibly be a thinking being. That single word had been full of magic, resonating throughout her magical self. However, it did not _feel _like something that was truly alive. It was more like a _presence_.

**Ozma's daughter. Light. Guardian.**

The grip on her mind and her magic lessened. Az had the sense that it recognized and accepted her.

**Safe. Protect.**

No, Az thought, realizing what it was trying to say. There's danger inside. I must come inside to protect others.

**Danger? Protect?**

Yes, protect, she thought fiercely. I need to save my family.

**Save. Protect.**

Yes. Let me in!

**PROTECT.**

A great blast of power shoved her out of the magic core and back into her body. Az sagged against Jeb with a gasp. "I can't…I couldn't," she managed. "I think the shield got the wrong message-"

"The shield's down!" one of the officers cried.

"Go, go, go!" General Trevelyan yelled. "Secure the palace!" Soldiers, Gale Force guards, and Tin Men converged on the castle at a run.

"I think the shield got the right message, Az. You did it," Jeb said warmly.

General Trevelyan turned to Az, grinning proudly. "Great job, Your Highness. Knew you could do it. The queen-"

Az paused and felt for the connection she had with her mother. "The passages below the throne room," she said, pinpointing her location. "Hurry, they're outnumbered."

He nodded. "We're on it. Men, with me!" he bellowed, grabbing a rifle and jogging off.

"Jeb, we need to go to the Observatory," Az said urgently. "DG's trapped there, along with your father."

Jeb nodded. "Then let's go." He turned. "Riders, with us! Move out!"

Freeheart reared on his back legs and let out a shriek of challenge. As one, the Riders turned and thundered towards the palace gates.

Az held on to her stallion, urging him to go faster. _Hang in there, DG. We're coming._

* * *

_**Please review!**_

Hi guys, sorry for the long wait. My break didn't turn out to be much of a break, but at least my MA dissertation is finished and I've moved into my house. The Ph.D. program has started, and I'm relying on this story to keep me sane. And Az and Jeb are _finally _together! I know, they didn't have that much time to bask in the glow, but action and adventure wait for no one. Don't worry, there's more fluff to come!_  
_


	34. Winds of Change

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: "Tristan & Yvaine" from the Stardust soundtrack, "Master of Shadows" by Two Steps From Hell, and finally, "...And Then I Kissed Him," from the Pearl Harbor soundtrack.

* * *

Wyatt propped the last of the chairs against the door and turned to face the princess standing behind him. "What did you mean when you said there's natural shielding up here?" he asked urgently.

DG winced. "Well, it's more for keeping the glass intact and containing and enhancing whatever magic's being used with the crystal ball. It's not a shield like the one that I've been using to protect us, but…"

"But?" he prompted.

"But I may have enough to fiddle with it to make it like my shield." She shrugged. "It's worth a try, right?"

"Of course it is." He nodded towards the crystal ball. "You said that thing enhances magic, right? Why don't you try using it to enhance a bit of personal shielding?" Inwardly, he rolled his eyes. What was he doing, talking about magic?

However, DG didn't laugh at his suggestion. She blew out a breath, mulling it over. "Yeah, I'll try."

As she approached the globe, she berated herself for not paying more attention to Tutor – both before and after her stay on the Other Side. She had absolutely no idea what she was doing when it came to most magic. Everything that had happened before the Double Eclipse was a fluke. Everything that she'd done was a result of pure instinct. That had served her well enough then, but with each passing day, it became apparent that raw instinct was not enough when it came to magic. She didn't understand it and couldn't manipulate it the way that Az could.

DG resolved to ask Tutor for more private lessons – that was, if they survived the events of today.

The crystal ball seemed to hum with life as she approached it. She reached out hesitantly and felt prickles of static race up her arms as her palms skimmed over its clear, smooth surface. It was like those static electricity pipes they had at science museums back home. She wondered if her hair was standing on end. "Here goes," she muttered under her breath, and pressed her hands against it.

She tried everything. Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead as she tried again and again to put up another shield. She attempted to draw out the power humming beneath the surface to expand little shields in the same way that one would blow up a balloon – only to have the shields pop each time she enlarged them to try and envelop the room. She tried enhancing the natural protective layer on the glass. She wracked her brain for every type of visual metaphor that could be used to simulate _any _kind of protective barrier, but failed.

"DG?" Wyatt called from the door. "I hear them on the steps. You got anything?"

DG fought back tears of frustration. She couldn't afford to fail Wyatt, not now. They'd only just acknowledged their feelings, let alone begun to explore what they could be together. She didn't want to lose that before they even started. "Not exactly." Her voice cracked.

His head whipped around at the tone of her voice. "DG, what's wrong?"

Her eyes caught his and held them from across the room. "What if I can't do it?" she whispered.

Wyatt looked at the princess, reading each and every shred of despair and hopelessness in her expression. His posture, already ramrod-straight and military-perfect, straightened even more. Determination and something that looked a lot like love flashed in his eyes, turning them a brighter, more electric shade of blue. He held up his service pistol. "Then we make every bullet count," he replied. "And we'll get through this. Together."

It was the perfect thing to say. Holding back tears of another sort, DG blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Will you marry me?"

Of all the things Wyatt expected her to say, that was certainly not one of them. "What?"

Oh god. Had she really just said that? "I mean, not right away," DG said hurriedly, misinterpreting his look of shock. Words came pouring out of her mouth, as they were wont to do when she panicked. "I'm nowhere near ready to make that kind of commitment and it's not like we're at that kind of stage in our relationship. Hell, we're not even officially dating! And it is kind of presumptuous of me, because you might not even want to do that sort of thing - I mean get married - again. But I really, really like you and I may even love you. Life is just too short-" Jeb, oh gods, thoughts of Jeb flashed through her mind, but they only spurred her on. "So even though we would definitely need to wait a little bit, I would really like to make that sort of commitment, because we could be great together-"

DG was so caught up in stringing together her thoughts that she was taken completely by surprise when Wyatt laid a finger on her lips, effectively stopping her rattle. When had he moved from the door? "I'm not sure if I caught everything," he said with a gentleness that belied the intensity of emotion in his eyes. "But I'm pretty sure I heard a proposal and a confession of love, right?"

"That…that would be correct." Ooooh, now _that _was a searing look. DG felt her knees turn to jelly.

"Good." And he yanked her up on her toes, finally, _finally _delivering the kiss that had been interrupted so many times before. She was everything bright and new and beautiful, and he savored every new sensation as it raced through him. With her, everything simply slid into place and he felt a sense of peace and completeness that had been missing for years. His hands fisted on her hips, holding on to what was his.

DG clung to him, her nails curling into his shoulders. This blew each and every kiss she'd ever had straight out of the ballpark. The taste and feel of him were so unfamiliar, yet it felt as though they'd been doing this for years. It was everything she hadn't known that she'd been looking for and had always missed.

It was a kiss tinged with hope as well as desperation, a plea for more. As Wyatt pressed her up against the crystal ball, DG thought that this would never be enough. They needed more time, more of _anything_, for she loved this man. He was precious to her and she would do anything to protect him.

This kind of love was worth saving. Worth fighting for.

Behind her, the crystal ball flared, the magic within it responding to the force of her emotions. A shimmering blue shield exploded into existence, enveloping the couple and radiating outwards.

Wyatt pressed his forehead to DG's. "I love you too," he murmured, more than a little awed by the moment. "So you gotta know that the answer's yes." His lips curled upwards. "But not right now. We're gonna take it slow, princess. And when the time's right, I'll be the one to ask the question."

"Says who?" she challenged, though there was no heat behind it. "Maybe I'll be the one to ask that time, too. After all, it's family tradition." Queens of the House of Gale always chose their own consorts.

"Thought you didn't want to be queen," Wyatt teased.

"I don't." Her eyes sparkled mischievously. "But I'm still a Gale, and a modern woman to boot. Deal with it."

"Somehow, I think I can manage." He drew her back into his arms.

* * *

"Horsemistress, watch out!" The shout rang out behind her. Azkadellia didn't even falter and threw up a glowing purple shield. The assassin bounced off it harmlessly and was immediately pinned to the wall with invisible bonds and an assortment of Windy's knives.

"Windy, Anka, stay with this one!" Jeb barked over his shoulder as Freeheart thundered on. The two teenagers peeled away from the Riders as one, moving to stand guard over the fallen assassin.

"What was that, the fourth?" Az asked absently. She was focused on getting to DG, though something niggled at her mind concerning her magic. She'd been prepared for a loss not dissimilar to her mother's once she'd brought Jeb back, but the flood of Light in the clearing had told her that she'd retained more than she'd thought. The success of the travel storm had initially assured her, but now that she was back in Central, she could see that not only were her reserves vastly depleted, but her magic was beginning to fight her. The shielding spells were not too difficult, but her spells of binding were weak and slow to take hold. The sleeping spell she'd put on the rebels back in the forest was already beginning to lift. She could only hope that Second had reached them in time.

What was happening? Had enough of her magic stayed, only to fade away at the first use? If she drained herself now, would she ever get any of it back? The thought of living without magic was a frightening one, even though she'd already resigned herself to living with it in a limited capacity.

How could she regret losing her magic, if it meant that she had Jeb? His life was worth all of her magic and more.

"The sixth," Jeb replied through gritted teeth. He wondered how she could be so calm, not knowing about her underlying turmoil. "Who has the money for this?" He pulled another revolver from his belt, tightening his arm around her waist as they turned another corner. If someone came right at them, he intended to do his part in keeping them both alive.

"No one in the O.Z., that's certain." All of the noble and merchant families who could afford a Guild assassin were pouring their money into rebuilding their estates, businesses, and the Outer Zone itself. If anyone had paid for the Guild's services, they only would have been able to buy one, perhaps two assassins.

Az was struck with a terrible thought. One family could only afford one or two assassins, but several families together could have ordered such a contract. Was the O.Z. turning against the House of Gale?

No, she couldn't believe that. She might not know these families, but DG and her parents did. Glitch and Raw did. Raw would have picked up any dissatisfaction – and what of the Shadow Man? Surely his network would have been able to detect any such plans.

She pushed Freeheart even harder. She was sure that Hedy would chew her out later for chipping the marble floors of the palace with horse hooves, but right now she couldn't care less. She was simply grateful that the palace hallways were built wide and tall enough for a group of Riders to come through without any problems.

When they finally reached the base of the tower, Az motioned for Jeb and the others to dismount. "The horses can go no further," she said to the remaining Riders. "I'll keep a shield ahead of us, but be prepared for some fighting."

Sula grabbed her trusty rifle from its special holster on Desertflower's saddle. "Good," she drawled. "I want a piece of this action."

Bo, who was strapping on his quiver, shot his lover a look. "Troublemaker."

She favored him with a cheeky smile. "And don't you know it, darling."

Az stared at the seemingly endless flight of stairs, wondering if she had enough to get her small band to the top. She wouldn't dare risk the type of transportation spell that the witch had used to move her mother in and out of the miniature environment that had been her prison. She couldn't call a travel storm indoors, and now certainly was not the time to experiment with _that _kind of magic, not when she could feel it both fading and fighting at the same time. She needed enough magic to shield her people. She would be no use to them if she got them to the top and couldn't protect them.

"Come on," she said, projecting a billowing shield before her. "Let's climb." She turned to Freeheart and the other horses. "_Guard_." If anyone attempted to come at them from behind, they would be surprised by the Vedu horses, who were better than guard dogs.

The race to the top of the tower was endless and exhausting. Even the supreme physical condition maintained by the Riders was tested by Az's headlong sprint up the spiral stairs. By the time they reached the top, everyone was out of breath and panting.

Az nearly fainted with relief when she saw the glittering blue shield that overlaid the door to the Observatory proper, holding steady even with the firepower that was being thrown at it by at least a half dozen assassins.

The confrontation was decided swiftly. The assassins were riddled with bullets and arrows before they could even turn around.

"Wait!" Az cried out. "Spare one of them!"

Jeb quickly changed targets and shot one of the liveried men in the leg, whilst one of Bo's arrows took him in the shoulder. The Riders quickly moved to disarm the dying assassins, nullifying their threat.

Az quickly knelt by the wounded assassin, turning him onto his back. His eyes flickered with recognition. "Princess Azkadellia!" In a move almost too quick to see, he flicked a needle-fine pin into his hand and moved to plunge it in her throat.

Before Jeb could even shout, Az called up another shield, hissing under her breath at the way her magic resisted her like an unruly horse. The pin shattered against the shield's unyielding protection, giving her time to pin his arms. "That wasn't polite," she chided, her eyes cool. "Now, who sent you?"

The assassin smirked before popping something loose in his mouth and biting down. His face went red, the muscles in his body convulsing before he slumped to the floor.

"Damn it," Jeb swore, kneeling beside Az as she took down her shield. "That was a suicide pill. It was probably concealed in a hollow tooth. If any of the assassins we captured were still alive, they're probably dead by now."

"So we won't know who's behind this," Jem said with dismay.

"We will," Az murmured. "The Shadow Man will find out."

"The Shadow Man didn't even know this would happen," Micah pointed out.

Bo began dragging the bodies into a pile. "No one's infallible." He nodded towards the door. "Does anyone want to let the princess and the commander that everything's all right?"

Az reached down the connection she had with her sister. _DG, we're here, you can come out now – _"Oh," she said aloud, her face flaming.

Jeb shot her a curious look. "What?"

"Ah…" Her hands fluttered in the air, completely useless.

Sula grinned knowingly and strode over to the door. "Oy lovebirds!" she shouted through the shield. "Assassins are dead now, so you can come out and thank us!"

Bo groaned. "Sula, may I remind you that you've just shouted at Princess DG and the commander of the Gale Force?"

She shrugged. "Who cares about protocol at a time like this?"

The blue shield disappeared and the door opened to reveal a blushing DG and a very satisfied looking Wyatt Cain. "Hi guys," DG said sheepishly, edging out the door. "Thanks for coming-_Jeb?_"

She rushed forward, blue eyes searching his face while Wyatt hovered behind her, confused. Jeb got to his feet, unsure of what to do. "You…I thought you were _dead!_" At a complete loss, she pinched him. Hard.

"Ow!" Jeb yelped, rubbing his arm. "Your Highness, was that really necessary?"

"Yes!" she insisted, poking his shoulder. "Az told me that you were-"

"Dead?" Wyatt finished, sending DG a full-on _Lucy-you've-got-some-'splainin'-to-do _kind of look. She flinched and looked away.

"He did die, but I brought him back," Az said shortly, the strain of the day's events finally beginning to take its toll. She couldn't be bothered with diplomacy at the moment. "And no, I'm not going to explain right now." She opened the connection with her mother, determined to check one last thing. _Mother?_

Warmth flooded through her. It was like being wrapped in the warmest, softest blanket on a cold winter's day. _My Azkadellia._

_ Are you safe? Is everything all right? _No matter how much she wanted to relax into the comfort that her mother offered, she refused to let down her guard just yet. If she had to keep fighting, she would, no matter the cost to herself. She had to ensure that everyone was safe.

_ We're all right now, dearest. General Trevelyan and his men found us just in time. Your father and Sir Ambrose have sustained some injuries, but they are being tended to._

_ Good. We're coming._ Az cut the connection and got to her feet. The room spun. She'd never felt so drained before. Magical bonds snapped as the last of her spells evaporated into thin air. She swayed on her feet.

"Az?" Jeb took her elbow, concerned. "Are you all right?" She'd turned deathly pale.

"No," she said truthfully, and promptly fainted.

* * *

Az sat in the corner of her balcony, oblivious to the cold winter showers that were coming down around her. Her hair clung wetly to her face as she shivered, though she was impervious to the cold.

Much had happened in the four days since the attack on the Riders and the royal family. The assassins – fifteen in total – were dead. The ones that Az captured had indeed taken suicide pills rather than betray the Assassins' Guild. The House of Lords, the House of Commons, and the citizens of the O.Z. were clamoring for answers. In order to appease them, Queen Lavender had issued a statement that a full investigation was ongoing. This of course meant that the Shadow Man was searching for answers, but the rest of the O.Z. didn't need to know that.

Palace servants were already tending to the damage the fighting had wrought. True to form, Hedy grumbled about the damage done to the marble floors via horse hooves, but no one could truly fault the Riders. All surviving Riders and soldiers were to be given commendations for their actions. Plans were already underway for a memorial service for the fallen. The only good news coming out of that tragedy was that recruitment for the Riders and the Royal Army soared after word of their deeds spread throughout the city and the surrounding countryside.

Second Company had reached the rebel army just in time. Rumors of Az's actions in the forest spread like wildfire as the rebels were marched south to Central City for their trials. Fortunately for Az, few common citizens held any sympathy for the rebel army. The ex-Longcoats and the bandits had caused trouble for everyone since the downfall of the witch. This was apparent even in Central City, where precious army resources had been diverted to deal with the problem. The anti-Longcoat sentiment spread once the full news of the two-pronged coup was leaked, and her popularity was higher than ever with the common people.

But for the people in charge, Az was once again the focus of wariness and distrust.

Az couldn't blame them. For every question that was whispered behind her back, she questioned herself tenfold. The fact remained that she'd lost control. A queen was supposed to maintain a cool head during a conflict, but hers had come too late. She would have to explain herself at a joint meeting with both Houses, and there was no doubt that her suitability as heir would be the topic of discussion once more.

Before the incident with the rebel army, Az would have said that she was truly considering accepting her status as heir. She had gained so much confidence through the Riders and had healed so much after the ordeal at Finaqua. The attempted coup had set her back in more ways than one.

No doubt, someone would question her self-control and her control over her magic. Az did not want to admit it to anyone, but she feared that her mastery over her power was beginning to fade. After the ordeal in the Observatory, she'd woken a full day later to find her room flooded with Light. This time, it was not so easily reined in. Even now, it was a struggle just to keep it contained beneath her skin. Every time her emotions flared, Light escaped. Even the most basic magics were becoming a chore, though she retained a considerable amount of strength.

It was as though the act of bringing Jeb back from the dead had caused her to lose all control of her magic. How could anyone trust a queen who could barely control her actions, let alone her magic?

It was in this state, miserable and despairing, that Jeb found her. "Az, what are you doing out here?" he asked gently, stepping onto the balcony. "You're going to be sick."

She looked up at him, anguish written across her features. There were so many things she wanted to say. "I was so angry, Jeb," she whispered, finally speaking about the actions that truly haunted her. "I almost killed them all."

His face cleared with understanding. He slowly lowered himself beside her, looping an arm about her shoulders to cradle her to his side as she continued to talk. "I couldn't do anything for the Riders without killing anyone. I was utterly useless. Then…then you _died_. Everything went black. I lost my mind."

Jeb was silent for a moment. He'd wondered when they were going to have this conversation. There were some difficult truths that Az needed to face about her power and her responsibility as heir. "Az, did you really believe that you could win the day, against those odds, without using lethal force?"

She blinked. "I…yes, eventually. With enough time…"

"But there wasn't," he countered.

"Jeb, I made a vow! I swore that I would never use the Light to spill blood again!"

Az's time with the witch had aged her beyond her years in so many respects that Jeb often forgot that there were parts of her that had never grown up. Her idealism and honor, which served her so well most of the time, prevented her from seeing the impossibility of that vow. "And I honor you for that, Az, I really do. But because of who you are and who you're going to be, you can't possibly expect to keep that promise."

She stared at him, wounded. "What do you mean, Jeb?"

"You're the heir," he reminded her. "You're going to be queen. That means making a lot of difficult decisions, especially when it comes to protecting your people. If you can prevent conflict by using diplomacy and non-lethal strategy, all the better. But there will be times when they won't be enough. You're going to have to resort to force."

"I can't believe you're saying this," Az said angrily, amethyst eyes snapping. "I almost _used _force, Jeb, and look what happened! I would have murdered them and would have been happy to do so. I even contemplated taking their souls in the process, never mind that I would have lost my own in return."

"Az, I'm not denying that you almost took a step too far." He took her hands in his, tightening his grip when she would have tugged them away. "Listen to me. Sometimes a well-fought battle can save countless lives. As long as you're acting in self-defense and for the good of your people, you needn't worry about losing yourself or your Light."

She shook her head frantically. "Jeb, I can't have any more of that kind of burden. I hate the very thought of having more blood on my hands-"

"And that's why you don't have to worry about losing yourself," he interrupted. "Don't you see? You're a good person. You wouldn't resort to killing unless you had absolutely no choice. I know you, Az. You mourn every single life you've taken. But you can't regret it, now when it's for the good of your people. That's the burden of responsibility and power. As the future queen, you have to understand that, as your mother and every queen before her did." He paused. "And I know you hated losing Riders. But they all knew what their duties entailed. As a leader, you have to learn to accept the possibility that they might die. It's beyond your hands. All you can do is honor their sacrifice."

Az was silent for a moment, absorbing his words. She thought back to the battle in the forest. She'd had the strength to stop the Longcoat approach, she knew that. Thanks to Tutor, she knew battle magic that made the Royal Army's strongest artillery look like slingshots. But she'd been so afraid of her own strength, so afraid of the cost to herself, that she'd held back. And her friends had gotten killed. "I just…I don't want to be like her," she said at last.

"You're not," he murmured into her hair, ignoring the rain. "You didn't murder the Longcoats. You showed them mercy and you brought them to justice for all of the O.Z. to see. You saved countless lives, including the lives of your family. You saved me. In doing that, you've shown them that without a shadow of a doubt, you're nothing like the witch." He tilted her chin up. "But I have a question for you. Do you have the strength to do what's necessary?"

She thought of Dunstan, Vera, and Martel. She thought of their mounts, and she thought of Strongwind. If she'd done what was necessary, she could have saved them. "Yes," she said eventually. "But I'll never stop hoping for peace."

"I hope you never will," he responded. "When the situation gets difficult…well, remember that even Meia the Peacemaker had to fight a few battles."

Meia the Peacemaker was one of the O.Z.'s most famous queens, and Az's role model. She'd had to reunite an O.Z. plagued by civil war, and had driven off the armies of Quox when they would have taken the weakened country for themselves. "That's true, she did," Az murmured. No matter how much she wanted to be like her famous ancestress, she had her own path to forge. This was a different O.Z., and she had to adapt with it.

A drop of rain fell on her nose and only then did she realize that her woolen dress was soaked. "How long have I been sitting out here?" she asked with dismay.

With that, the heavy mood lifted. Jeb laughed. "Long enough. Come, it's time to go inside." He got to his feet and pulled Az up as well, tucking her hair behind her ears. "DG's not going to thank me if you get sick."

Az took his wrist, turning it and pressing a kiss into the palm of his hand. "Thank you, Jeb," she said softly. "You always know the right thing to say."

His eyes softened, feeling the touch of her lips throughout his whole body. "Not always," he admitted, thinking back to all of their misunderstandings. "But I try. Because you mean _everything _to me, Az. You have to know that."

Az could only nod, too overcome to speak. How could she feel cold? The look in his eyes was all the warmth she needed. Despite the horrors and darkness in her past, he'd seen her. And somehow, his heart had understood hers. _For their hearts were as entirely one as two halves of a whole could ever be_ – just like Iamar and Qurban.

"You've changed me too, Az," he continued. He looked at the world differently because of her. He'd been fighting for so long that he'd lost sight of what it was to live. Now he looked on his goals with a new perspective. He wanted a better O.Z. – not just for its citizens, not just for the Riders, and not just for himself, but for her. He wanted to step into that future with Az at his side.

And she'd brought him back to life. Nothing could ever match that. "I love you," he murmured, taking her hands in his.

"And I you."

They moved as one, their lips meeting halfway. They pressed so close together that it was as though they were no longer two separate beings, but one. One body, one mind, one soul, one heart, beating in time with the shimmering rain that fell softly upon them.

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**Please review!**

Well folks, that is it! After misunderstandings, trials, action and adventure, we've reached our story's end. "But wait," I can hear you saying, "What about the nefarious mastermind behind the coup? What about the Shadow Man? What about the Riders, and Az's powers?" Never fear. Some of that will be addressed in the epilogue, and the rest in the sequel. Yes, you heard me, the sequel. When I finished writing this arc, I realized that I'd spun so many threads throughout the story that if I didn't finish it now, the whole thing was going to be over a hundred chapters long. So, while this is the end of one story, another is just beginning. There will be quite a few teasers in the epilogue, I promise.


	35. Epilogue

**AN: **I don't own _Tin Man_. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own twisted ends. :D

Recommended Listening: "Finding Answers" from the 9 soundtrack (not to be confused with Nine). Also, songs that helped influence this entire thing are "Fragile," by Delta Goodrem, "The Light" by Sara Bareilles (how appropriate), "Vermilion, Part Two" by Slipknot, and "Rubik's Cube," by Athlete.

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Queen Lavender allowed herself a little bit of a sigh as she watched Az and Jeb become lost in their embrace. "I am so happy that those two have finally seen the light," she murmured, giving them their privacy as she moved inside to her dressing table.

"As am I, my love." Ahamo came up behind her and, placing his hands on her shoulders, kissed her deeply.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I know." They shared a brief, sweet moment, their foreheads pressed together in affection.

"Tell me," she began as she combed her smoky hair. "What news does the Shadow Man bring?"

Ahamo grinned innocently. "And who says that the Shadow Man has anything to report?" He strode over to the dresser as he removed his jacket, enjoying the suspense of the moment.

Lavender raised an eyebrow. "Since the Prince Consort has been bouncing around all day like an errant puppy." Her tone of voice was not quite irritated, but displayed the slightest touch of pique.

"Ouch." Sky-blue eyes twinkled. "Have I really been that bad?" Her eyebrow arched even higher. "All right, I suppose I have…but wouldn't you rather be surprised?"

"Surprises from the Shadow Man are never a good thing," was the dry reply. "I should fire him for all the irritation he causes me, really."

"Again with the dagger to the heart! My love, you know that there is no Prince Consort without a Shadow Man."

"My love, you are starting to vex me, really. I'm starting to consider the merits of a Prince Consort without the…extras." Her violet gaze in the mirror was pointed, though there was a slight quirk at the corner of her mouth that betrayed her amusement.

"Oh, all right. You've twisted my arm." Ahamo shut the wardrobe. "Her Majesty," he wiggled his eyebrows. "Is to expect some…overtures from Wonderland."

The queen spun around in her seat to stare at her husband, all amusement fled. She never would have expected to hear such a thing. "Wonderland? You can't be serious."

"The information is good," he said, his own smile disappearing. "The envoys should be here in a week or two."

"Darling, what am I supposed to think of this?" Lavender frowned deeply, her mind racing through all of the possibilities, good and bad. "My mother cut off all diplomatic ties with Wonderland when the Hearts overthrew the Diamonds. The things that the current queen does with those horrid teas…"

"Relax, my love." Ahamo sat down in his armchair by the fire, folding his hands beneath his chin. "The Queen of Hearts is sitting quite…uncomfortably in a locked and padded cell. It is her son that sits on the throne now."

"Jack? Jack Heart? How is that better?" All previous intel concerning the Hearts had implied that the king and prince were complicit with the queen's dealings.

"He was a rather prominent member of Wonderland's Resistance."

She shot him a look. "This is something that the Shadow Man has been remiss in informing me."

Ahamo tried his best to look contrite. "Sorry, my dear. It must have slipped my mind. We had other things to deal with at the time. The Riders, the coup, our daughters falling in love."

Lavender shook her head at her husband's attempts to distract her. "I suppose. But how did Jack Heart contrive to overthrow his mother?"

"With some very…interesting characters," he said. "We'll leave it for the envoy to explain. Of course, we must tread cautiously. Jack Heart may not be a threat, but the whispers from the Shadow Man's informants say that our little coup may have origins in Wonderland."

"Of course," she murmured. "There are those in Wonderland who can afford to arrange such a contract with the Guild." She looked up. "But how do we know Jack Heart isn't behind this?"

"We don't. We'll just call it a gut feeling."

"Envoys _and _threats from Wonderland," she sighed. "These are strange times, indeed."

"Strange, but fun." He got up and stretched. "And now, I'm for a bath." He smiled down at his wife. "Care to join me, queen of _my_ heart?"

Lavender rolled her eyes. "That was, as DG says, cheesy." Nevertheless, she put her hand in his and allowed herself to be led away. There would be time enough to consider everything that Wonderland was offering. Her kingdom was recovering, her daughters were happy, and her husband was waiting. For now, life was good.

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**Please review!**

Wow. After two years, 35 chapters, over 100,000 words, and countless hours spent rewatching _Tin Man_, it's finally finished. This story has been my baby for so long, I can hardly believe it! I never would have dreamed that it would turn out like this, but I couldn't be happier.

Oh yes, the sequel is going to be a crossover. From the moment I saw SyFy's _Alice_, I couldn't help but think that these two would cross over so well. Can you imagine the hijinks that Az and Alice would get into? And I thought Jack and Duchess were woefully underused. Did the Shadow Man turn out to be who you thought he was? The hints _were _there, albeit very obliquely!

To all my readers - thank you so, so much for taking this journey with me, and for trusting me despite all of the angst and cliffhangers. You've been so wonderful, and every kind word has been chicken soup for my writer's soul (The cheese! It's...greasy!).

This story wouldn't have made it off the ground if it weren't for two people: poptate, who indulged my fancy and encouraged me to write even when this was nothing more than a crack romance, and MatsuMama, who graciously accepted the challenge of becoming my beta. She pushed, she pulled, and she talked me through every single rough spot. Thank you, ladies. You deserve cookies by the truckload.

And now...onwards!


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